


But I Know I Would Have Loved You Anyway

by svana_vrika



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Never Met, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Firefighter Tachibana Makoto, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Grinding, Happy Ending, Instant Connection, Kissing, Light Angst, Love at First Sight, M/M, Merman Hazuki Nagisa, Merman Matsuoka Rin, Merman Nanase Haruka, Merman Yamazaki Sousuke, Merpeople, Minor Character Death, Naked Cuddling, Nonpenetrative Sex, Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers, True Love, Whimsy, canon tropes, destined lovers, makoharu - Freeform, merman ryuugazaki rei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25003261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/pseuds/svana_vrika
Summary: There is a legend among the people of the Mer of the heart’s mate; a unique and extremely rare bond between two beings who hold half of each other’s heart. When the fates align and destiny determines that it is time for them to meet, the connection is instantaneous. But sometimes, sacrifices have to be made, and sometimes, things don’t go as planned.
Relationships: Matsuoka Rin/Yamazaki Sousuke, Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto
Comments: 22
Kudos: 59
Collections: Nanase Haruka Birthday Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schnooglepuffs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schnooglepuffs/gifts).



> Written for [Schnooglepuffs](url) for the Nanase Haruka Birthday Exchange 2020.  
> I hope you like this bit of whimsy my brain led me to after we read through your prompts; I know I had a lot of fun writing it! ♥

“It was long ago,” the old woman begins. “Before the tragedy, before litter choked our seas, when glass floats were still being used to mark safe passages through the water and motorized boats were still very new. The fish were plentiful, and the water _so_ pure; it was if you were looking through air. Small villages dotted the shoreline instead of the large city they’ve spread to become, and many men still believed in what most now call the myths of sun, moon and sea.” Fingers, still slender and smooth despite the woman’s age, card through dark silken tresses as she shares her tale, though she speaks to both boys beside her. “They were pure of heart and mind and soul, and it was during that time that he came to me.”

“Your first love!”

“Ah, child. My first love. As pure as most of mankind still was at that time, he was amongst the purest. He was selfless. Giving. Never thinking of himself.” The old woman chuckles, soft and melodic. “Though I didn’t think him such at first.”

“Because he was stealing the water!”

“Rin!”

“What? It’s not like you’ve not heard the story before!” Rin protests sulkily in response to the pout and glare the other boy is giving him.

“It’s still rude to interrupt!” Haruka points out, and while he really, truly is glad that Rin hadn’t been with his family the night that the tsunami—the tragedy—had come and had taken so many lives, this isn’t the first time that he finds himself missing the quieter days when it had just been him and his grandmother.

“Sorry, ‘baa-san,” Rin murmurs contritely, but only after poking his tongue out at Haruka, who rolls his eyes and presses his lips at his friend’s—brother’s, he _supposes_ —immaturity. There may only be just over seven months between them, but there are times when Haruka feels as if there are years.

“It’s fine, child,” she soothes. “I know you’re eager for the tale and weren’t deliberately being rude.” Rin’s cheeks color and Haruka can’t help but smirk. Grandmother has a gentler way with words than Haruka, but she’d still let Rin know that yes, it _had_ been rude. “And you’re right. I thought he was stealing the water; great buckets of it, and too many for me to count. He just took and took and then disappeared into the night.”

“It was daylight, and nearly a month later that I next saw him,” she continues. Her lips curve up slightly. “Though I didn’t truly see _him_ at first. All I saw was the one that had taken our water, and my temper rose so quickly that I was at the shoreline and demanding to know who he thought he was before I remembered who _I_ was and the danger in which I had put myself. But he merely turned from the little shrine that he’d been building—for that’s why he had come back—and smiled, and _that,_ my dears, was the first time I _truly_ saw my love. Like the sun it was, and his eyes like seagrass; so wide they were when he truly saw _me_ , but I know it wasn’t merely from the sudden surprise of seeing someone like me in that place, or from my scolding.” Grandmother’s eyes, the curve of her smile softens. “He was as entranced with my beauty as I became with his—inside _and_ out.”

Haruka’s heart aches softly for his grandmother. He knows that, for as much as she had loved his grandfather, she’d loved the man she’d met that night so long-ago heart and soul and had never gotten over him. It gives him mixed feelings, his grandmother’s tale. It makes him feel odd to think that he’d have been born a very different person—if at _all_ —had she bonded with her true love. He likes who he is, who he’s learning to be.

“We met several times after that,” Grandmother continues, and Haruka brings his mind back to attention. “I learned all about him as he finished his little shrine. To Suijin, he told me. To honor Them and to thank Them for the gift of water. He was a fireman, you see. He took the water, but only out of necessity, to save the land, to save the people.”

“A hero,” Rin breathes and, this time, Haruka doesn’t chastise him. He feels the same, always feels a bit breathless and excited when his grandmother reaches this part, even as the ache within him intensifies over what’s coming next.

“A hero indeed. And oh, I loved him for it, every bit as much as I loved him for his beauty, for his pure, gentle heart and spirit. And he loved me, too, longed to be with me as much as I did him. We talked, and plotted and dreamed, waiting for the day to come when it would be possible. The spell,” grandmother says, _just_ as Haruka hears a soft intake of breath from his right, and he knows that she had spoken to prevent Rin from interrupting—and from getting scolded by Haruka—again. “A magic that can be granted only by the kingdom’s ruler. In exchange for the abilities and longevity of our people, it will shift one of the Mer into a land dweller so that they may join with the other half of their heart.”

_The spell. The other half of one’s heart_. They make Haruka feel odd, too. He can’t imagine living anywhere else but the coral reefs that they call home, and he really doesn’t like the thought that part of him is missing; that part of him belongs to someone else. Yet there’s something about it that intrigues him, too, makes him feel a sort of longing. He cherishes his bond with his grandmother more than anything he has; even at his young age, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have one even stronger and more intimate.

He only hopes that, if they ever do meet, their tale is happier than his grandmother’s.

“But,” Grandmother continues, “on a night not long before all that we’d hoped for would have come true, he didn’t come to meet me.” She is still smiling, but Haruka isn’t fooled. He can still recall the tears that had stained her cheeks the day that he’d found her in her chamber, clasping a ring he’d never seen before; the day that he’d first heard her story. He knows that, even now, years upon years after that night, her heart still breaks every time she thinks about, tells, their tale.

“It happened sometimes,” she says in reminiscence. “He couldn’t control when the fires would come; he could only do battle with them when they would. So home I went, knowing that he’d come the following day, as he always would after the nights that he was called away from me. But this time… that last time,” grandmother corrects, pulling herself back to the present from that night so long ago, “That last time, a stranger was there in his place. He didn’t stay long; he just knelt before the shrine that my love had built and, after praying, he rose and went away.”

Grandmother laughs again, but sadly this time. “He didn’t leave the shine as he’d found it, however, and I was so indignant! How dare he defile that place. _My love will take care of it when he arrives_ , I thought, and I waited. I waited until the tides came in and took the rubbish in its wake instead; drew it out to where _I_ could reach it. And once it did, I knew that my love would never again come to me. For it was the remnant of his firemen’s helmet that I held in my hands, my love’s name just barely legible on the badge that had adorned it.”

“Tachibana Mitsuo,” Rin murmurs, and then he sniffles, just as he had the two other times that he’d heard the story, told once a year on the day that the sea had brought Grandmother the news of Tachibana’s passing.

Grandmother smiles gently, leans forward, brings a hand up to wipe away Rin’s tears, forgetting her own sorrow in her desire to comfort him. Haruka’s is offered more subtly as Grandmother’s tail curves closely around him when she moves toward Rin. Haruka closes his eyes, idly strokes the supple scales, once as blue as the ocean, like his own, now silvered with age.

“Don’t be too sad, child,” he hears her tell Rin. “It is a tragedy and my heart broke with it. But Haruka’s grandfather, bless him, had the love and patience to put me together again. And had the dream I shared with Mitsuo come true, who knows where we’d be now, hm? There’s a reason for everything, my loves,” she tells them as she settles back. “It’s not for us to guess the gods, but if nothing else, I was here to help our people recover after the tragedy, and I wouldn’t have been had Mitsuo survived and the magic performed.”

Haruka’s hand stills and his gaze falls contemplatively as he considers the spell again; how drastically everything would have changed. He’s glad to be who he is, to be alive, but he can’t bring himself to be glad for Tachibana’s death, either. And if, _if_ he does have a heart’s mate, would he really be able to leave the ocean if a land dweller is the only one able to soothe that weird little pull he feels when he thinks about the bond?

“Haruka?”

Haruka lifts his head and looks at his grandmother; he sees the silent question and shakes his head. “I’m fine, Baa-baa,” he assures, and he rests his head against her tail again. It’s a foolish question to ask himself, he thinks. For grandmother loves the sea as he does, and she’d been willing to leave her home, her kingdom, for the other half of her heart. He has to believe that it will be as easy of a choice for him, too, if it’s ever put to him.

Then again, the likelihood of him even meeting a land dweller is almost as rare as that of him meeting his heart’s mate, so it’s dumb to think any more about it, he decides.


	2. Chapter 2

“Haru. Hey, Haru!”

Haruka is shaken with the second call and he grumbles wordlessly as he’s forced awake. Eyes heavy, barely open, he scowls at Rin. “What?”

“Let’s swim.”

“Rin, it’s the middle of the night!” Haruka grouses, even as he pushes himself up from his nest. He loves to swim, to be free in the water, but he’d been sleeping _so_ well. And it’s not like they wouldn’t have been out and playing in a few hours, after breakfast.

“I know.” Haruka comes more awake at Rin’s quiet tone. The only time Rin’s _ever_ quiet is when he’s hurting or sad, and Haruka silently sighs to himself. He should have expected it after Grandmother’s story. Rin’s soft hearted _and_ a romantic, even at their age, and he’s sure the reference to the tsunami that had taken Rin’s parents hadn’t helped. “I just… can’t settle down.”

“It’s fine,” Haruka mutters, feeling badly for his impatience. “We can go for a little bit.”

“Yeah?”

Haruka covers a yawn and then nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Getting out of the palace area is easy. Long gone are the days where guards are needed. Titles aren’t even used anymore. Haruka is just Haruka, no prince before his name, and he rather prefers it; can’t imagine what it’d be like to be bound by such a ridiculous thing. Then again, the kingdom is much smaller than before; miniscule in comparison, really. Especially after the tsunami that had taken Rin’s family. The entirety of their people now fit within the palace and branch family boundaries.

Haruka glances at Rin, who is grinning happily as he cuts effortlessly through the water. He’d known _of_ Rin before, but hadn’t really _known_ him; likes to think that the Rin he sees now is close to how Rin had been before his loss. Smiling. Carefree. Annoying, but goodhearted in his own way. He can’t imagine the pain and emptiness Rin had felt; figures it had to be close to that of his grandmother’s when fire had stolen Tachibana away. His chest aches at the thought, but he really has no comparison; though his parents, as diplomats between the myriad territories and kingdoms, have been largely absent from his life, he’s never experienced a loss like Rin and his grandmother have. 

“Ne, Haru.”

“What?”

“Do you really think Tachibana was ‘baa-san’s heart mate?”

Haruka nearly stops swimming, he’s that caught off guard. Eyes wide, he glances over at Rin. “What?”

Rin slows, turns, comes to a stop. “I mean, she didn’t know he was in trouble, right?” he continues, knowing from Haruka’s reaction that he’d heard him the first time. “Do you really think they shared a heart?”

The mere thought of them not makes Haruka’s chest heavy for some reason, makes him sadder than thinking about Rin’s parents had. He feels the sudden sting of tears and is appalled; he _never_ cries. But that occasional, negligible tug in his heart has turned into a searing ache and he can’t find his voice to even _try_ to answer.

“Haru, never—”

“I do,” he finally manages to cut in over Rin. “I get why you’re asking,” he continues, because he does and he’s not a liar, not even when it’s something as painful as this. “I know what the legends say. But I do.” He starts swimming again, feels Rin following him after a moment; lets a few more pass and collects himself before he slows to match paces with Rin again. “Maybe she couldn’t sense it because she was still of the sea,” he offers, because it’s the only thing that makes sense to him. Love is plentiful, yet meeting the true half of one’s heart is a rarity. He does know that. But, amongst all the tales passed down regarding it, the strength of the bond between the two when they meet is among the most prevalent. “I don’t pretend to know how it all works.”

“Maybe,” Rin cedes, and then, after a moment, “Maybe I’m just thinking about it ‘cause I feel badly for your grandfather. I know that he and ‘baa-san loved each other, but it still had to be hard in some ways, knowing he wasn’t her first choice.”

Haruka thinks about that. “She didn’t _have_ to marry at all,” he eventually says. “Most of the kingdom had been lost by then, so there wasn’t a political motive. She could have stayed single, but she didn’t. And out of any of our people, she chose him.”

“Yeah.” Rin smiles a bit again. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Rin’s curiosity seems to be sated, because he doesn’t say anything more, but the damage has been done. Haruka doesn’t spend _too_ much time thinking about his grandfather. It’s an interesting point, sure, but Haruka had never known him. It’s Rin’s initial question that persists on circling thorough his mind. Why _hadn’t_ his grandmother known that Tachibana had been in danger? Did the fact that she hadn’t known mean that they weren’t heart mates after all? Beyond that, with her still having been of the Mer at the time, what could she have done even if she had? He can’t bring himself to believe that they hadn’t shared that unique bond, but he can’t stop the circle of thoughts, either—until Rin grabs him and pulls him behind a large growth of deep-water corals.

“Shh!” Rin warns in a barely audible hiss but, by then, Haruka’s aware of it, too; the ripples of the water telling them of another Mer-person nearing their location. They aren’t far enough from home to be in danger from anything more than a scolding, but neither of them wants that, not tonight, especially. And when the one approaching draws near enough for them to realize it’s Grandmother, Haruka is even gladder that Rin hadn’t been lost inside his head like he’d been.

The two stay frozen until they’re sure it’s safe to move, and then, with a whispered, “C’mon,” Rin leads the way from their hiding spot. But, instead of turning back toward the palace, he swims toward where Grandmother had disappeared.

“Rin!”

“What?” Rin pauses, turns around. “You know where she has to be going, yeah? Aren’t you even a little curious to see the place?”

Haruka _does_ know, also knows it’s likely the only reason why she’d not picked up on _their_ proximity; she’s lost in her thoughts as he’d been. He’s curious, of course he is, but it feels like an invasion of privacy, too. Then again, it’s likely the only way they’ll ever learn where the shrine is. She’s not mentioned it before, and Haruka doesn’t know if he could bring himself to ask, she’s always so sad on the one day she speaks of it.

“Fine,” he sighs, and then, as they swim off, “But just far enough to be able to find it again. I don’t want to cause her trouble, Rin!”

“I know, I know!”

It doesn’t turn out to be too far at all. They swim for maybe another twenty minutes before they see grandmother’s shape through the wavering waters. Rin, thankfully, stops of his own accord; they look at each other and, of a singular mind, push silently to the surface. Haruka always goes a bit lightheaded at first; they’ve only just been permitted to learn and aren’t supposed to without an adult. But once his world stabilizes and he’s drawn a good, deep breath or two, it catches.

The cove is simply beautiful, the water still crisp blue and pure, and Haruka can see that the sands are white and clear of litter, unlike the larger beaches they’d been shown as a sort of warning. The stars shine in mirror image against the ocean’s surface, and he can’t imagine a more perfect place for his grandmother to have met her heart’s mate.

Eyes adjusted to vision above the water, he narrows them toward the beach, but he really can’t see anything in particular. The shrine must be somewhere in or around the outcropping of rock, he figures, if it’s still there at all, but as his gaze slides past his grandmother, his heart clenches. Wherever it is, hidden from sight or in her memory, she sees it. Haruka can tell.

_Do you really think they shared a heart?_

Grandmother lifts her tear-stained face to the moon; looses a single, broken cry that causes clouds to form where there had been none before and the waters around them to churn, and forces Rin and him back under the surface.

_Absolutely._


	3. Chapter 3

Time flows the same for the Mer as it does for the humans. Those of the sea still mark it by the rising and setting of the sun, and there are still three-hundred-sixty-five days to a year. It’s the impact of time that differs. From birth until their coming of age, the Mer grow quite similarly to those on the land, but once they cross into adulthood, their aging slows.

Haruka thinks about that as he idly floats just beneath the surface. Nine years have passed since he’d followed his grandmother to Tachibana’s cove and, back _then_ , she’d been considered old by even their standards. She’s frailer now, and it saddens him, because he knows her time is near. He still has Rin, has made other friends as the years have passed, but she is the one dearest to his heart.

A heart that, according to some, is still missing its other half.

Haruka huffs impatiently as he flips onto his stomach and dives deeper into the water. He still believes in the tales as fervently as he’d realized he truly had the night that he and Rin had witnessed his grandmother call the storm with her grief. But he’s beginning to think that, perhaps, it’s not meant for him. Part of him still ponders it some days; he thinks it always will. Who _doesn’t_ want that sort of love, he thinks, unconditional and meant specifically for him? It was the subject of his biggest fight with Rin, who’d told him he wasn’t cut out for it. _You’re too stubborn and independent,_ he’d scoffed. _You don’t want to be bound by anything. Nobody in their right mind’s gonna want to deal with that._

It had hurt, because part of him had thought that maybe Rin was right, but most of him had felt betrayed. He never had told Rin of the thoughts he’s carried since childhood, but Rin is his brother, has known how Haruka feels about the legend in general for almost that long. It had taken him days before he’d spoken to Rin again, and then only after his grandmother’s intervention. _I **am** stubborn and independent,_ he’d said. _But if the other half of my heart is really out there, they would accept that as part of me and **want** me to be free to be me. _

Shortly after that, Rin had found someone he swears is _his_ heart’s mate; Yamazaki Sousuke, a large male whose family had retreated from a warrior kingdom on the other side of the islands when Sousuke had become injured and had been deemed of no value to their realm. Grandmother had welcomed them with open arms and no questions, as she has anyone whose found their way there, and Haruka wouldn’t be surprised if Sousuke and Rin _are_ heart-mates.

For as much as Haruka and Yamazaki butt heads, he can’t deny that Yamazaki _gets_ Rin—and gods know he has to be in love with the idiot to put up with him as he does, Haruka thinks with a snort as he weaves between several small schools of coral fish. With Grandmother’s blessing, they’ve bonded, and Rin’s a member of Yamazaki’s house now. Haruka’s happy for him. He truly is. But it also makes it even less likely that he’ll ever find his heart’s mate, for as rare as it’s supposed to be.

And maybe, just maybe, he’ll be alright with that. He’s lived with that gentle tug in his heart for this long, after all.

Haruka surfaces again, this time to float fully on top of the water. The cove is as undisturbed as it had been the first time that he’d seen it, the water and sand still as pure. As for the shrine, he’d realized a long while ago that the tsunami that had taken Rin’s family had likely stolen that, too. He wonders what it had looked like. Something simple, he thinks, but properly reverent; a private place for the man with the smile like the sun and the eyes like seagrass to give thanks to the water god. Haruka’s lips curve up slightly as he lazily floats. He bets anything that Tachibana had thanked Suijin for his grandmother, too.

“Haru! Oi, Haru! See, Sousuke, I told you he’d be here!”

“Of course he was, Rin-chan; it’s Haru-chan’s favorite place, after all.”

Haruka sends a quiet sigh to the sky and then flips and dives again. His friends are just below him, not even two meters beneath the surface, and his lips do curve up a bit despite his pensive mood when he sees the excitement in Nagisa’s eyes and smile. He’s younger than him and Rin, but close enough in age that they’ve shared several lessons together. Nagisa’s the only male in the Hazuki pod and has followed him and Rin around like a little brother for years. He’s more endearing than Rin, Haruka thinks, but just as draining with his high energy and mischievous personality.

Nagisa doesn’t know _why_ the cove is Haruka’s favorite place, and if Rin has told Yamazaki, he’s never given any indication. Haruka is fine with that. The tie to his grandmother is only part of it, truly; he covets the cove for its seclusion and beauty as much as he does the history and energy of the place, and the more that know its story, the more chance there is that the peace he finds there to just drift and be would be spoiled. Then again, Rin had dubbed it _boring_ long ago when they’d been kids; he much prefers racing between the reefs and seaweed forests and wrecks over idle floating. Maybe the others would feel the same. He supposes he’s selfish, but he’s fine with that, too. It’s not like he can claim the water as his own, or would even if their caste system was still in place and he was called prince. Haruka understands the necessity of borders, but overall, water is meant to be free. Yet he’d be perfectly content if nobody else _ever_ came there.

“Haru-chan, stop spacing out and _swim!_ We’ll miss the fireworks if we don’t hurry!” Haruka mentally rolls his eyes, but quickly catches up with the others. “Are you alright?” Nagisa asks as they, as a group, maneuver around a pod of dolphins heading toward the surface. “You’re even more lost in your head than usual,” he teases with a giggle.

“How can you tell?”

Haruka casts a glare at Yamazaki for the deadpan tease and then looks back at Nagisa. “I’m fine. Truly,” he assures in a gentler tone when he sees that Nagisa really is concerned for him, and then, to take the focus _away_ from him, “Are we headed to the usual spot?”

“Mm!”

Haruka nods and smiles a bit when, out of his excitement, Nagisa bursts ahead of him to lead the way.

“How’d this become a _thing_ for you guys, anyway?” Yamazaki asks behind him, and Haruka remembers then that he and Rin hadn’t met until a month or so before last year’s display. Haruka supposes he can’t blame him his curiosity. The fireworks are definitely a land dweller’s form of celebration and, at that, they only happen two or three times a year.

“Nagisa found them several autumns ago,” he says, but he leaves it at that. The time that Nagisa had run away after being lectured by his parents hadn’t been one of his better moments, and it’s up to Nagisa whether or not he wants that part of the story told.

The cove from which they watch the fireworks isn’t all that far from the reefs in which their territory’s pods are housed, just a bit further than Tachibana’s cove but in the opposite direction. None of the other Mer in their territory, beyond Grandmother, have even a passing interest in anything of the land, so it’s only the four of them, and it’s a beautiful night, clear enough for them to see the hundreds of floating fires that had been set to sea from the shore. Lanterns, his grandmother had told him the first year he’d seen them and had talked about them. A way for the humans to honor their ancestors, as are the fireworks after. She’d learned of the custom from Tachibana, and Haruka wonders what else the two had spoken about when they’d meet in that cove at night.

His gaze turns pensive as he watches the floating lights. Perhaps it hadn’t been coincidence at all that he’d found himself in that place on the day that surely _someone_ is honoring the man that his grandmother had loved so. One can’t believe in the legend without having _some_ faith in fate, after all. And Haruka knows that there are things in the world beyond what can be seen and touched. Any doubt he may have had about that had vanished the night he’d seen his grandmother’s grief call the storm.

A sharp crack through the air pulls him from the melancholy thought and Haruka tips his gaze upward. The fireworks truly are beautiful, reminding him of the colorful anemone against the dark of the ocean’s depths, and for a long time, he’s carried away, the occasional smile flitting over his lips whenever Nagisa gives an excited gasp or _ahh!_

And then a different bang cuts through the night, startling them all. It’s unlike anything Haruka’s heard in all the years they’ve been coming to the fireworks, unlike anything he’s ever heard, period. When the color does come after, it’s all wrong; a brilliant flash low to the ground, followed by billowing oranges and reds, and clouds of smoke that seem to carry the terrified cries they hear out to the sea with it. Haruka feels a sudden grip to his arm and his head jerks to the left; he tries to swallow down his own horrification when he sees Nagisa’s acute fear. “It’ll be alright,” he assures. “There are fire fighters amongst the land dwellers. They’ll put the fire out and save the land and people.”

“Yeah,” Rin says softly and Haruka looks up, meets Rin’s gaze over Yamazaki’s broad shoulder. He can tell that Rin’s thinking about Grandmother’s hero, too, about the fire that had stolen him from her.

“Let’s go,” he murmurs to the other and, as they dive beneath the surface, Haruka hopes with all that he has that this fire doesn’t leave anyone as heartbroken as she’d been.


	4. Chapter 4

“Tachibana!” Makoto looks up from the kit he’s restocking, and then straightens out of his crouch when the captain crosses over to him. “What’re you still doing here?” he demands good naturedly. “You weren’t even on the clock, kid! Get home!”

Makoto wants to argue. The station’s a mess with gear and equipment strewn all over, and there are two more triage packs that need restocked; all things that he’s more than able to help with. But he also knows that you don’t argue with the captain. Especially when you’re just fresh from your public worker exam and aren’t even full time, or out of your probationary period, yet.

“Yes, Sir,” he responds and, after a bow, Makoto tells him he’ll see him next shift and then heads toward the lockers, calling back another, slightly more subdued, “Yes, Sir,” when the captain hollers after him, _not before!_

“Tachibana.” Makoto pauses, looks over his shoulder, and then fully turns when he sees the captain’s expression. “You did good today, kid, and I appreciate the help. With you assisting on medic duty, we had one more man to put on the fire, which meant more was saved and less were injured. Fire and Rescue, hell, Iwatobi, is lucky to have you. Just don’t forget to live a little, yeah?” he says kindly. “You’re not that long out of training school and not even twenty yet, and you’re putting in more hours than some of our old-timers. It’s too short, kid,” he says, sobering drastically. “Nights like tonight drive that home. And there’s a hella lot more to life than what we do, proud as I am to do it. Do you understand?”

“I do.” Makoto bows again and, after thanking the man, turns and goes to retrieve his things. He sighs quietly as he steps into the locker room and grabs his jacket and bag from where he’d put them when they’d returned to the station. He doesn’t even have a locker yet, and it kind of drives home what the captain was saying.

He gets it. He truly does. But all he’s known, all he’s been taught, his entire life, is responsibility. Not that he’d had an unhappy childhood. Quite the opposite. His parents love him, and he them. And he adores his twin younger siblings. But, as the eldest, he’d had to be a role model in school, in his extra-curriculars, and he’d often taken care of the twins when he—and they—had been old enough for his mom to return to work. Even when he’d hang out with his friends, he’d been the one to mediate and make decisions when nobody else would.

Beyond that, all he’s ever wanted for as far back as he can remember is to be a fireman.

Makoto’s cheeks warm slightly as he heads out into the fading dark of the dawn. He recalls the first time he’d wished for it, well before he’d known of the training and dangers it entails. They had been in Iwatobi visiting his oldest auntie, who was actually his dad’s great aunt. It had been their last night in and a storm had been blowing through. Makoto still remembers _that_ in detail, and a shiver runs through him now as he recalls it, his first so close to the ocean, and how terrified he’d been. Auntie had heard him crying and had come to soothe him, and had told him a story about the storm; how the worst ones always came that time of year and were said to be called by a mermaid queen mourning the loss of her heart-mate: a land dweller.

_And not just any land dweller, Mako-chan,_ she’d said as she’d stroked through his hair. _One of us. A Tachibana. My grandfather’s brother, to be exact. A village hero, he was; a fireman who’d saved the land and its people countless times, it’s said. And then one night, just a week before he and the mermaid queen were to be wed, Tachibana Mitsuo fought his last. Fire claimed him and, the night that my grandfather placed what was left of my uncle’s helmet at the shrine, the worst storm in Iwatobi’s history to that date came._

Makoto had been completely captivated by the tale and he chuckles a bit to himself as he recalls how he’d plied the old woman with questions about the shrine ( _one to Suijin, in a little cove at the far end of the village near where the mountains begin),_ how she’d learned about the tale _(Grandfather liked to tell it, to calm **me** from the storms; oh, he’d loved his brother dearly!) _and what a heart-mate was. At that point, his auntie had chuckled and had said that would take more time and create more questions than what she could allow for a little boy past bedtime, but that Makoto could ask her more the next time they met. Only they never had. He’d left with his parents that morning, and the old woman had died before they’d gotten a chance to go back.

The breeze kicks up and, with it, the scent of smoke and myriad other sorrows waft to Makoto’s nose from his own clothing. The melancholy smile that had risen as he’d thought about his auntie fades with a soft huff and shake of his head. It’s embarrassing to think that his initial desire to pursue such a career had been borne from a young boy’s want of his own romantic tale. Not that Makoto _wants to die_ ; that had never been part of it. But to a child of six, auntie’s tale of heroism, infamy and tragic love had spoken to his heart in a way that had never left him.

At one point, he’d asked his dad about it; about auntie’s story and about heart- mates. His father had chuckled, had rolled his eyes affectionately, and had passed the former off as myth. He’d grown up by the ocean, he’d said, and he’d never once caught a glimpse of a mermaid, nor had his father, nor anyone else he’d known. And besides, if they _did_ exist, how could they betroth themselves to someone of the land when mermaids would have to live in the sea? The latter, his dad had been more open to and had said that, of course, they existed, but when Makoto had started asking him if all love was only between heart-mates and _is mama yours,_ his dad had gently shut him down, telling him he was too young for such things and the complications that came with them.

Makoto hadn’t understood at the time, but that conversation had never left him, either. 

The breeze blows again, stronger this time, enough to ruffle the clouds away so that the rising sun can glint on the water to his left. It’s bright enough that Makoto has to squint and, bringing a hand up, he turns his gaze to the ocean. It makes him uncomfortable, all that water and the hidden power it holds beneath its serene depths, but it calls to him in a way, too, and a half-smile curves his lips as he lets his gaze wander the shoreline.

From where he is, he can just barely make out the way the land takes a subtle dip close to the base of the mountains in the distance, and his heart clenches softly, a combination of the fables from his youth and the horrors of the night before. Makoto doesn’t even know if the shrine is still there, but he’s struck with a sudden need to find out, to honor it if it is and to rebuild it if it isn’t. He has candles and incense that he keeps for the small memorial altar he has at home, and he can surely find _something_ for an offering. Before he even realizes it, he’s broken into a jog, but he doesn’t question himself about it once he does. The pull to see to this and to do it _now_ is just too strong.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Makoto has showered and changed, the emotions that had driven him into his haphazard rush to get home have calmed some. The tug is still there, the urge to go to the cove, but he’s asking himself what that pull truly is even as he’s rifling through his cupboard for a suitable gift. He’s never been one for religion itself, but he does respect—and has always felt pulled in by—the stories of the gods of old. And he does believe that there is _some_ sort of higher power. Whatever name it goes by, it definitely deserves his thanks, not only because so little of Iwatobi and her citizens had been lost the night before, but because he’d come through unscathed as well.

If he’s completely honest with himself, however, he knows that Auntie’s legend is part of it, too.

For whatever reason, it’s as if recalling her story has woken a latent spell that had been cast by her words, and he feels the need to go to that place, to see the cove that had been the start of it all—whether local myth or truth—almost as strongly as he does the desire to give thanks. It doesn’t make sense, and Makoto can’t help but laugh at himself a bit as he leaves his apartment and heads back to the coastline to make the walk.

He’d applied at Iwatobi Fire and Rescue as soon as his class had been allowed, had moved there as soon he’d graduated. Honestly, he can’t think of a particular reason why, other than—out of the many towns on the list of those accepting new-graduate hires—Iwatobi had been the only one somewhat familiar to him. His family is inland by several hours; he’s there all on his own and he’s just been too focused on learning and giving what he can to make any friends outside of his acquaintances at the station. He’s lonely, Makoto decides is the explanation for the tug auntie’s story has on him today. He’s lonely, has always been captivated by the tale, so it’s no wonder that seeing the glimpse of the cove has him longing for the heart-mate part of the story more than he probably should be.

The captain had been right. He really needs to make himself get out and actually _live_ more. 

Makoto’s lips press softly. It’s embarrassing, he thinks, a grown man with his head so caught in an old wives’ tale. He’ll offer his thanks and make the vow to renew his outlook on life at the same time. It seems appropriate since he’d been spared last night, after all.

The walk to the cove takes longer than he’d thought, but everything is still _early morning_ silent. He doesn’t see one car, one _person_ , and it adds to the overall mood, an odd mixture of mystery, peace, and excitement. There are no steps down to the cove when he reaches it, so he ends up having to double back, and when his feet touch the sand and he feels the spray of ocean against his bare legs, his breath catches. He’s never been this close to it before, and that earlier fear rises, but it’s tempered with a bit of awe and exhilaration. The water is cool and fresh and feels so good that he can almost forget that it isn’t always like this, that—at times—it’s harsh and angry and brings death and destruction.

The cove truly is tucked away from the rest of the world, or so it feels when he reaches it. It’s narrow, almost more a grotto with how closely the rocks crowd and curve, but there’s enough land for a white sand beach that both compliments and contrasts the pure blue of the water. He’s never seen anything so beautiful and, for the first several moments, all he can do is stand and stare.

When Makoto finally does step forward, it’s almost as if he’s in a daze, he’s that completely caught up in the perfection of this place, the way it soothes that almost fierce need to _be here_ that he’s felt since his auntie’s story had first come to mind.

After several moments of simply experiencing the energy of the place, Makoto looks around with a bit more purpose. If there truly had been a shrine, there’s no sign of it, he realizes, but there’s only one place it really could have been. Reluctantly turning his back on the water, he makes his way toward the rocks that jut through the embankment.

Quietly, almost reverently, he searches the craggy wall with hands and eyes, looking for any sign that his ancestor’s shrine had been there. He’s both disappointed and pleased when he can’t find anything; part of him had wanted some tangible proof that auntie’s tale had been true, but the other is proud that the man had venerated this land, this place, to where he hadn’t permanently marred it. Deciding that he’ll follow suit, Makoto studies the rocks again, and then a smile curves up his lips. There’s a point right in the center of the cove that’s both deep and even enough to hold his little candle, the incense and his offering. It’s protected enough that the breeze from the ocean shouldn’t extinguish the flame, yet exactly where anyone facing the cove from the water would be aware of it.

Makoto’s hand falters in brushing off the smattering of sand and his eyes go wide. _Why did I think **that?**_ No boat could make its way into the inlet; he’s fairly certain the only way there is the path he’d taken further up the shore, and he shakes his head as his cheeks warm. He’s never been able to dismiss the existence of mermaids as readily as his father, despite the fact that he’s never heard of any tangible proof that there _are_. But he also knows that he’s being foolish. Even if Iwatobi’s oceans are teeming with them, the likelihood that one would surface in this cove to see his light is extremely slim, let alone that they’d know either story behind it: his own of survival and gratitude, or the one his auntie had told him. _Yeah, you really need to get a life,_ he tells himself wryly as he passes the whimsy off to his loneliness and a heart that’s both tender and tired from the night before. _But maybe some sleep first._

Chuckling softly to himself, Makoto decides he’ll do just that, but after he’s finished what he’d come to do. He puts the more whimsical thoughts from his mind, _tries_ to put them from his heart so that he can find a properly reverent mindset for the task at hand. He knows Suijin through the stories he’s read from boyhood and decides that he’ll follow his ancestor in that as well. He can’t think of anyone better to honor for a man in his position, living in a village that’s often at the mercy of the ocean’s whims, and working toward a career in which water is of prime importance.

Once Makoto deems the surface properly clean, he retrieves the items he’d brought from his rucksack; sets his candle and then kneels to fill the small jar he’d brought for the incense sticks with sand from the beach. “Thank you,” he murmurs because it seems right to do so and, after smoothing out the divot he’d left, he rises again and places that, and then his offering.

Once the candle and incense are lit, Makoto lightly claps his hands together and then bows his head over them. His heart seems to take over from there as words silently flow from his mind, offering himself as a follower of Suijin, thanking Them for the water and for the lives and land that Suijin’s gift had saved.

How long he stands there, Makoto isn’t certain, but when he finally lifts his head, he feels at peace, like he’s accomplished what he’d come to. He’s calmer now, not quite empty, but even, the longing to find someone like his ancestor had—for that’s the realization that had come to him as he’d quieted his mind—a gentle and tolerable presence now versus a driving want. Smiling, he tips his head to his shrine one last time and then turns to make his way home, only to freeze in his tracks when someone calls out _from the ocean,_

“Tachibana?”


	6. Chapter 6

_Stupid,_ Haruka berates himself as soon as the name leaves his lips. He hadn’t intended to call out at all; he’d meant to just go back home (and maybe sulk because someone was in _his_ place—though he supposes he’s fortunate that, in all the years that have passed, it’s the first time!) But then the man had turned around and, as soon as Haruka had gotten a glimpse of his eyes, green as seagrass, it had slipped. But there’s no _way._ Even had Tachibana actually survived, he would have looked much different than the young, handsome, and extremely well-built land dweller standing there gaping at him.

Haruka’s heart stutters.

Makoto’s heart skips a beat.

He can’t believe what he’s seeing, what he’s heard, what it _means_. Everything was real, every _bit_ of it, the mermaid—though what he’s looking at, while so beautiful that he puts the cove to shame, is about as far removed from a _maid_ as they come—the shrine, his ancestor’s infamy, all of it. For why else would this mer… person? have come to _this_ cove, have known _his_ name, had someone not shared the firefighter’s legend amongst those who dwelt below? “You’re real,” he breathes. “Oh my god, you’re _real!”_

A smile bursts, literally _bursts,_ across the land dweller’s face, like the sun, just like Grandmother had described. It’s breathtaking and it’s beautiful, and it’s _everything_ , for Haruka knows now without doubt that, somehow, a descendent of his grandmother’s heart-mate is standing there before him, in the same place, in practically the same circumstance, that she and _her_ Tachibana had met. What he doesn’t know is if his reaction, the way he can’t breathe, the way his heart persists on skipping, is because of the bit of magic that’s happening right before his eyes or because, through that magic, he’s just met his _own_ heart’s mate.

Makoto takes a step forward, completely entranced, unable to turn away from the merman, from the way his emotions run rampantly through his beautiful, sea-blue eyes, from the color that rises like the first blush of dawn in cheeks pale as the sand. _He knows,_ Makoto thinks. _He knows their story, what happened here, and I think… I think he feels it, too;_ the erratic heartrate and the heady shortness of breath, as if he’d run through the fire-college’s training circuit twice in full gear, but so much sweeter.

_The latter,_ Haruka decides as he sees the boy’s heart in his eyes, as he hears the boy’s laugh as he takes another step forward, it gentle and _so_ sweet, like the sound of the first spring rains lightly striking the surface. _Definitely the latter._

He can’t be wrong. He _can’t._ He doesn’t give a damn about things like likelihood, rarity or coincidence.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto apologizes, voice slightly shaky from awe, from the utter joy he feels that this is _real and happening._ “That was rude to greet you like that, but oh, you… Well you _know,_ ne? About them? About this place? About… what they found here?” he finishes almost shyly, and Haruka is as entranced as he’d been by his laugh, his smile.

“Ah.” Makoto’s smile grows impossibly brighter and Haruka’s face feels warmer than it’s ever felt, even after basking beneath the hottest sun. “I’m uh… She’s my grandmother.”

It’s the cutest thing, Makoto decides, the slight stammer, the way he glances down and away as he talks, and his voice, it’s so soft, yet so delightfully masculine. And then what the merman had said actually penetrates and Makoto’s eyes go wide. “… that’s incredible,” he says after stammering for a second for a name that he doesn’t have, and then, “I’m sorry; I never learned your… _her_ name.”

“Haruka. Haru. That’s me, I mean. My name.” And god, Haruka’s never been one to talk much, but where has what skill he _had_ possessed gone? “My grandmother is Chinami. We are Nanases.”

“Haru,” Makoto repeats, and he loves the way it feels, like a breath; a lilted sigh. “Nanase Haru. I’m Tachibana Makoto, and I’m _so_ pleased to meet you.” After a second or two, he sees that Haru’s face is pinking again, and he blinks himself out of his stare, his own face heating. “I’m sorry, Haru.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I can’t believe that the queen is your grandmother. I’m the fifth generation since Mitsuo died in that fire,” he explains, “But you look the same age as me.”

Haruka _really_ likes the way this boy, _Makoto_ , says his name, like it’s as precious as the air it takes to form it. “I likely am, Makoto,” he says of their age, and he’s pleased with how natural Makoto’s name feels to his tongue, the way his heart seems to warm as he speaks it. “I’ll be twenty-one at the end of the coming June.”

“Haru! I’ll be twenty come seventeen November!” Makoto’s brow furrows softly. “Then how?” His eyes go wide again as a thought occurs to him. “P-prince Haru,” he corrects, stammering in his embarrassment, but then his head lifts when he hears a quiet, _no._

“My grandmother isn’t the queen.” Haruka pauses, rolls his eyes upward in thought. “Well, I guess she is _technically._ But… she gave up her title long ago.” In exchange for her father’s consent of the spell, but he can’t bring himself to speak of it. He knows, _knows_ that Makoto feels it, too; how their hearts are connected, but it feels odd to bring it up. It’s their first meeting, after all. Would it be too forward? “We’re not even seen as a kingdom anymore,” Haruka decides upon, and then he smiles a bit. “You’re actually the first that’s ever called me _prince_ my entire life.” And for how Makoto had stammered and ducked his head like he _wasn’t good enough,_ for the pure relief he now sees in Makoto’s eyes and smile, Haruka’s never been gladder for that.

“You’re glad for it,” Makoto says after a moment of studying Haruka’s eyes, and his heart warms when Haruka’s smile widens slightly with his nod. “Then I am, too. But Haru, how…” Makoto stops, worries his lip, tries to find a delicate way to ask how Haru’s grandmother is still alive if Haru is only a few months older than Makoto.

“How does she still live?”

Makoto’s head jerks up again and he offers a small smile and nod.

“Our aging starts to slow when we reach adulthood. Though, I don’t know why.”

“Ah.”

“Makoto?”

“Mm?”

“How did you hear the tale?” Haruka’s head tilts slightly. “Mitsuo wouldn’t have had children to pass the story onto.”

“Ah.” Makoto grins a bit, moves closer to where the water laps at the shore, settles onto the sand, draws his knees to his chest. “Mitsuo and his brother, my great-great-great grandfather, must have been very close. He knew the story, see, and he passed it on to his daughter, my father’s great-auntie. I met her my first trip to Iwatobi when I was very young, and she shared it with me to calm me during a storm; told me about the queen’s mourning,” he finishes softly, and Haruka’s heart lightly clenches as he recalls the image of his grandmother that had been burned into his mind so long ago.

“She mourns for him still,” he says quietly, and then, “Did you find the shrine?”

“No.” Makoto shakes his head. “I found no sign of it. But this morning, I saw the cove from a distance as I was coming home from a fire, and I _had_ to come here. Maybe ‘cause it was Obon as well,” he hypothesizes softly, almost as to himself, “But their story tugged at me that strongly. So I gathered what I needed and I built my own. Haru?” he asks worriedly when he sees how Haruka’s eyes go wide and his mouth softly falls open.

Haruka’s face heats abruptly and he snaps his jaw shut. “I saw the fire,” he mumbles. “My friends and I, we surface to watch the fireworks every year, and the lanterns when we can see them. It… I was afraid,” he almost whispers, but then he smiles a bit. “But I told Nagisa—he’s the youngest—that there were men like you out there who would save the people and land. Just like Mitsuo did.”

Haruka parts his lips to ask if Makoto had knowingly followed in Mitsuo’s footsteps or if there had been another reason for his choice, but then he feels two of the Mer approaching him from below, and he presses them together with a silent sigh. This is all so new, so _much_ , that he’s nowhere near ready to share this with Rin yet, never mind Yamazaki, so he just gives Makoto a small smile and says, “I have to go.”

“Oh.” Makoto’s felt disappointment before, but never the heart-sinking kind, and he now realizes that it truly is more than just a saying. But then Haruka’s expression gentles and he’s looking at him almost tenderly, which sends Makoto’s heart soaring again, even as his face feels like it’s on fire.

“Come tomorrow? Same time?” Haruka asks, and when Makoto beams that smile of his again and nods, Haruka’s heart stutters again. It’s all he can do to not bring his hand up to press against it.

“Tomorrow then, Haru,” Makoto promises once he manages to find his voice again, and then Haru turns and dives, his soft, _ah_ , coming to Makoto on the ocean’s spray and breeze.


	7. Chapter 7

Haruka loses count of how many times the two of them meet through the autumn. Every day they can, he knows that, and a lazy smile curves his lips as he absently weaves his way through an anemone forest. He can’t even describe how content he is; how ridiculously happy Makoto makes him. Both the skeptical piece of his heart and that bit that had always been longing are sated. He’s met his heart-mate, Makoto accepts him for who he is, and Haruka has never felt freer. The corner of his mouth quirks into a little smirk. _Told you so, Rin,_ he thinks as he drops out of the forest and down into a deeper trench.

Makoto… isn’t perfect. He’s too hard on himself, constantly puts everyone _before_ himself, can be a bit clumsy and awkward. Storms and the open water scare him, and he can barely swim, though Haruka had been working with him while the water had been warm enough. But he’s sweet, kind and gentle, funny and smart, and Haruka loves him _so_ much, inside and out. He’s not perfect, no, but he’s perfect for Haruka. And Haruka knows he is for Makoto, too.

Thoughts of Makoto’s swimming make Haruka think about Makoto’s kisses, and his lips curve down into a slight pout as he ducks between some sharks and toward his destination. Their first had been a few weeks after they’d met, and Haruka knows that’s when that small sliver of doubt that had lingered had left him, the day that Makoto had decided that Haruka was worth braving the ocean for and had waded in chest deep so that he could hold Haruka’s hand.

Or that’s how it had started anyway.

Haruka’s slight smile returns as he recalls how that first touch had led to others; gentle caresses of cheeks, of hair, of how it had felt to have Makoto’s large hand cup his cheek and chin, to have his thumb lightly brush beneath his lower lip as he’d whispered for Haruka’s permission before finally, _finally_ bringing their mouths together.

Haruka tips his head back in a soft, frustrated groan. That kiss and those touches had led to many others, had left them both aroused more than once, and Haruka thirsts for them like he does the open water. The wind at the surface carries winter’s bite now and the water’s been too cold for Makoto for nearly three weeks, so it’s been that long since Haruka has touched or tasted him.

With a huff, he rights his head and then his expression sobers. They’ve still not spoken of the spell and Haruka has come to suspect that Makoto might not know of it; for everything else Makoto’s asked about him, his grandmother and their life in the sea, he’s never brought it up. Haruka still hasn’t, either. He must speak to his grandmother first, he feels, lest he promises Makoto something that she’s no longer able to perform, and his grandmother doesn’t know—actually, _nobody_ knows—that Makoto exists.

It’s been close a few times. Rin and Nagisa can be annoyingly persistent when they want him, and the cove is always the first place either of them look. He and Makoto have been lucky so far, and Haruka’s brow furrows as he contemplates _why_ he hasn’t told his family or friends. They’d be happy for him, he thinks, his grandmother especially; happy to learn that the bond between her and Mitsuo had been carried through their lines. And he really would like to see Rin’s face when Haruka shows him that he’d been wrong. But it just feels… right to keep this to Makoto and himself. At least just a little bit longer.

Haruka’s expression shadows as he slips into a narrow crevasse of rock for the particular medicinal plant that he’d been after. Especially since he knows that it’ll be a bit of a shock and his grandmother’s become so frail.

When Haruka surfaces at the cove after delivering the medicine to his grandmother, Makoto’s already there. His heart lifts at the sight of him as it has since that very first day, and Haruka swims as close to the shore as he dares, waiting for Makoto to finish his prayers at the shrine. His brow furrows softly. There must have been another fire last night, and he offers his own thanks that Makoto had survived unscathed. He can’t even fathom going through what his grandmother had.

When Makoto lifts his head and turns, Haruka can see the exhaustion in and around his eyes, but it vanishes as soon as theirs meet, chased away by Makoto’s beautiful smile. Haruka’s own mouth curves slightly as he watches Makoto come closer, and then his eyes go wide. Makoto’s _coming closer_ , not standing on the shore, and after gaping for a second, Haruka calls out to him, “Makoto, go back; you’ll freeze!”

“It’s okay, Haru-chan. I promise!” And the way Haruka’s heart stutters at the diminutive endearment is almost embarrassing, but it happens _every time_ , and he _loves it_ , even as he grouses at Makoto to stop. But this time, he’s got more pressing things on his mind than scolding him, like how in the world Makoto’s managing to come into the water at all, let alone closer, closer, and _oh_ , close enough for Makoto to take his hand and pull him against his chest, holding him tightly.

“How?” he manages, it muffled by Makoto’s shoulder, and Makoto eases back just enough that Haruka can lift his head.

“It’s a wetsuit. It protects me from the cold. My parents asked what I wanted for my birthday and, well, what I wanted most is to be with Haru, so…” He trails off, sheepishly rubbing at his nape, and after an incredulous second, Haruka surges up and kisses him.

It’s odd, different from their other kisses; save for Makoto’s mouth and hands he can’t feel Makoto’s warmth at all. The suit reminds him of a seal’s skin, sleek and slightly slippery, but the way it fits to Makoto’s figure drives Haruka a little crazy. Or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since they’ve been together like this. Whatever it is, Makoto’s feeling it, too, for how hungrily he kisses back, for how his one hand settles at Haruka’s waist and the other roams wherever it can, through his hair, down his cheek and throat, across his chest, Makoto’s thumb lightly catching at a nipple and making Haruka _groan._

When they part, they’re both flushed and panting; Haruka rests his head on Makoto’s shoulder again and Makoto nuzzles into his hair, breathes deeply, taking in Haruka’s scent. It’s such an intimate thing that Haruka presses closer, and Makoto tightens his hold again, breaths shaky as the hand at Haruka’s waist travels back and down to stroke over the scales at the base of his tail.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs after a swallow that Haruka feels, and Haruka nods; Makoto smiles into his hair, rests his cheek against it. “Missed you,” he murmurs, and Haruka huffs a soft laugh.

“We saw each other yesterday.”

“Not like this, though.” Makoto kisses his head again.

“No,” Haruka softly agrees, “Not like this.” And then, “I’ve missed this, too.”

“I love you.”

The words come from each other at the same time. Their heads raise in synchronicity, their gasps overlapping, too, and then they’re both laughing, even as they kiss and hold each other close again. It’s the first time either of them have spoken it aloud, and Haruka warms through that they had reached that point together, a softer, gentler warmth than what had flooded him a moment ago as they’d kissed and Makoto had touched him. The warmth of being whole, Haruka realizes as their mouths come together again; of realizing that, even without the destiny they share, he would have loved Makoto anyway, and he makes up his mind then and there.

It’s time to talk to his grandmother. He just hopes that his want to protect her heart and health as long as he could hasn’t cost them their opportunity.


	8. Chapter 8

Almost a week passes before Haruka feels his grandmother is well enough to speak with. Part of him feels he’s being selfish, even still, just by _considering_ the conversation, but most of him knows that it has to be done. That she, out of anyone, will understand his desire and decision. She’d regret it, he knows, if Haruka leaves it too long out of concern for _her,_ and she ends up lacking the spiritual strength to cast the spell. So when she’s well enough, he goes to her, sits beside her at the foot of her chair as he had when he’d been young. She chuckles, surprised, and it both warms and wounds his heart as her fingers card through his hair with it. “What is it, Haruka?” she asks and, as if sensing his bit of turmoil, she wends her tail around him like she had when he’d been a child.

Haruka closes his eyes, melts into the embrace, and lets the last of his worry go.

“I’ve found him, Baa-baa. I’ve found my heart-mate.”

“Haruka!” he lifts his head at her delighted gasp, but as soon as he does, she realizes; sees that it isn’t anywhere as simple as that. “What is it, child?” she asks again, expression gentling.

Haruka tells her. He starts with that day long ago when he and Rin had followed her to the cove, how he’d seen her call the storm in her grief. He speaks of how he’d been drawn to that place ever since, how it had become his haven, how he loves the sand and water there, the way the rocks reach to the sky. How he’d gone to the Obon fireworks with his friends; of the fire and how he’d found himself back at the cove the morning after. 

“There was a human male there. A boy that looked about my age. He didn’t see me; he was focused on the rocks, and I was just going to leave. But then he turned, and Baa-baa, my heart…”

“Go on,” she urges when he pauses, but there’s a tremble in her fingers now that he can hear in her voice, and he knows where her mind has taken her.

“His eyes are like the seagrass, and his smile is like the sun,” he tells her. “His name is Tachibana Makoto.”

“Oh, Haruka.” There are tears in her voice now and Haruka’s head jerks up, but she’s smiling, one of such beauty and joy that it rivals Makoto’s, he thinks. She laughs, and lightly cups his cheek with her hand. “You must tell me _everything._ ”

So he does. He tells her of Makoto’s first reaction when he’d seen him, of what he’d known of her tale. How Mitsuo had spoken of her to his brother and how the legend had been passed down. “He’s from inland,” he says, and he speaks of Makoto’s family, of how dear to him they are, of how Iwatobi had always called to him anyway after that visit with his aunt so long ago; tells her how, as soon as he’d completed his school and training he’d returned.

“A fireman, then,” Grandmother murmurs and Haruka nods.

“Ah. A hero, just like Mitsuo.” He smiles a bit, softly. “But he doesn’t see it, because there are things that make him afraid, like ghosts and the open ocean and storms. He can barely swim,” Haruka tacks on, and some of his residual disbelief must show because his grandmother laughs again.

“But you love him still and believe him your mate, despite such a grievous flaw?”

Haruka’s chuckles softly at her teasing, then nods again; ducks his head. “Ah. I felt it as soon as I saw him. And Makoto felt it, too.”

“So then.” Grandmother strokes through his hair again, gently encourages his eyes back upward. “You’ve made your choice and have come to me for the spell.”

“Ah.” Haruka tells her how Makoto had braved his fear of the ocean to come to him, of the last time they’d met and how Makoto has found a way to come to him still, despite the chill of the November ocean. “It was his birthday and he told me all he wanted for it was to be with me. And Baa-baa, I want that for us both.”

“Then you shall have it.” Haruka leans up, lightly kisses her cheek and murmurs his thanks; she strokes his hair again as he settles down. “Tradition dictates that I meet him and bless your union as I did for Rin, but that’s simply not possible now,” she says with a soft chuckle. “And I can’t exactly send you in my stead as my heir.” Haruka looks up again and she smiles at him. “I know my son. Your father’s wanderlust is too strong to ever be content to settle here and lead.”

Haruka nods, and then worries his lip. “Is it truly alright then? For me to go?”

“My sweet child.” Grandmother cups his cheek again. “I’d never rob you of your chance to be whole, nor try and keep you caged. Why, you’re just like them!” She hushes Haruka’s protest with a finger to his lips. “I know that you’ve never wanted to leave our territory, or even this reef. But, since you were small, all you’ve wanted was to be free to be who you are. And that means being with your Makoto. There are others that can lead, that I can teach the spells and magic to.”

“Baa-baa.” Haruka pushes up again and, this time, he hugs her, an unusual show for him, despite how very close they are, and it convinces her even more than Haruka’s own conviction that he is right and his heart is now whole.

“I’m happy for you, Haruka,” she tells against his skin. “And know that while he and I will likely never meet, the two of you _do_ have my blessing.” She places a kiss to his closest cheek and then gently puts him away from her. “Now go. Tell him your news and then let me know when.” A soft smile, carefully crafted to hide the longing she feels in her heart, curves Chinami’s lips as she lightly touches his face.

_Though I do wish that I could see him._


	9. Chapter 9

“Tachibana! Oi, Tachibana, you in there?”

Something lightly bounces off of Makoto’s head, startling him from his daze. The captain snorts softly in amusement and Makoto colors and bends to grab the roll of gauze that had been thrown at him. “Sorry,” he murmurs sheepishly, and he gets back to the inventory count, only to falter and look up again when he feels the man’s eyes still on him.

“So?”

Makoto blinks in confusion. “So…”

The captain rolls his eyes. “So you gonna tell me her name, at least? _His_ name?” he tries again when all Makoto can do is blush and stutter. Makoto’s face gets hotter, and the man chuckles softly again. “Thought so.”

“Huh??”

“Ah, don’t get your breeches bunched, Tachibana. You get to be my age, you learn to see things. ‘specially working with so many men over the years, and with as big a family as mine. I kinda figured.” The captain grins toothily. “Glad I told you to get a life when I did; you mighta missed out on whoever he is.”

Makoto smiles despite his embarrassment. He can’t deny that. “Yeah,” he says softly, and then he squeaks in surprise when the man throws an arm around him and ruffles his head.

“I’m glad for you, kid. But get your head out of his pants and back into the game so we can get outta here.”

The only thing keeping Makoto from dying then and there is the wayward thought that Haru doesn’t even _have_ pants, and a giggle bubbles up in his chest at the utter ridiculousness of it all. He can’t believe he’s dealing with _locker room talk_ from a man old enough to be his father _plus_ fifteen years, teasing him about a sex life that he doesn’t even have with the _merman_ who holds the other half of his heart.

Not that he hasn’t thought about it, he ruminates as he goes back to counting bandages, and now he’s kind of glad for the tease as it gives a plausible reason for his face to be red. He just doesn’t know _how_. Granted, there are countless theories on how Mer-people have sex, and a couple of them are actually believable. But that’s all they are; speculations, or well-educated guesses at best, and he’s just not comfortable assuming. Which means he’s going to have to ask, which is only slightly less disconcerting.

Haru’s face flashes through his mind, how he’d looked the other night when he’d gone to him, how he’d felt pressed against him, even through the neoprene suit. He’d about gone crazy those three weeks when he’d not even been able to take Haru’s hand, never mind the sweet taste of his mouth, and he’d nearly decided that he’d have a better chance of surviving hypothermia than the whole winter without him when his parents had Skyped to check on him and to ask about a birthday present. Ran and Ren had been in the background, his troublemaker of a little sister teasing about _get him swimming lessons, ‘kaa-san!_ Ren had, of course, jumped in, the two of them going back and forth through a laundry list of water related gifts, and that’s when it had come to him.

And, of course, seeing his siblings’ identical expressions of utter shock when he’d asked for the suit had been a bonus.

Makoto chuckles a bit as he recalls it. His parents had been shocked, too, but pleasantly so, he thinks. They’re not accustomed to him asking anything for himself, and he thinks it had made them happy that he had. It’s kind of funny how wanting everything for the one he loves with all his heart has made him a bit more selfish overall, with his time, with what he wants for himself. But, for Haru, Makoto would do anything. Ask anything.

For a brief moment or two, he speculates on how his family will accept Haru. It’s a light twist in his gut every time he thinks about it, but they love him and they’re good people. And his father hadn’t spoken of the Mer (Makoto knows that’s what they call themselves now!) with distaste; he’d just said that he didn’t believe in them. Well, Makoto thinks as another smile creeps over his face, someday soon he’ll _have_ to. It’ll be kind of hard for him to deny when they finally meet, and see, Haru. And Haru’s so wonderful, inside and out, that he has to believe his family will love him every bit as much as Makoto does.

It’s about this time that something hits his head again and Makoto’s gaze jumps up. The captain’s laughing at him and he looks down, sees that he’s been putting the triangle bandages in the gauze stack. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but the man waves his hand, then gives him a kind grin.

“Get out. It’s fine,” he assures Makoto when he starts to protest. “There isn’t much left here at all, and I’m not _so_ old that I don’t remember what being fresh in love is like.” Makoto blushes again, but stands up, then bows and thanks him. “See you after your time away, right?” Makoto blinks; he’d forgotten all about that, and his face gets hotter when the captain laughs at him again. “Gods, you really do have it bad.”

He does. He won’t deny it. Truth is, he has it _so_ bad for Haru that he’s contemplated canceling his trip home more than once, but when it comes right down to it, he can’t. It’s the only chance he’ll have to see his family before the new year; and it will be his first away from them. Besides, they’d be _so_ disappointed, and Makoto won’t do that to them—never mind how Haru would scold him for the thought. He colors again, a gentler rush this time. Haru really hates it when he gives so much and forgets to do for himself.

By the time Makoto’s changed and has made his way down to the cove, the sky is near pitch black. The wind at street level had been fairly vicious, and he sighs in relief once he has the protection from the rocks; after tidying his shrine, he turns and scans the waters. A glimmer of blue made even brighter by the dark tells him that Haru is there, and grinning, Makoto wades out to meet him and kiss them _both_ breathless.

When they pull away, Haru tips his head up, and there’s something different in his eyes; a secret, Makoto realizes, but one that Haru’s almost bursting to tell, and he chuckles and kisses the tip of Haru’s nose. “What is it, Haru-chan?”

Haruka watches Makoto approach, goes willingly into his embrace, about melts when those thick arms come around him so snugly as the heat of Makoto’s tongue slides into his mouth. He’s never felt the need to be owned or protected, but when he’s like this with Makoto, he feels both, and it’s so natural and beautiful and good that he can’t resent it. He is Makoto’s and Makoto is his, and together they’re whole. That’s all there is to it. 

Makoto calls him out almost immediately when they part and part of Haruka wants to be annoyed, by how easily Makoto had read him at the very least, but he’s so eager and excited, so ready to _be with him_ that it overrides everything else. “Makoto. There’s a part of my grandmother’s story that didn’t get passed to you.”

Makoto’s brows arch up, but before he can ask, Haru’s talking again, and he has to bite back a chuckle at how adorable he is in his excitement. And then he _hears_ what Haru is telling him, and _oh._

A spell. One that will enable Haru to leave the sea and to be with him.

Hope rushes through him like wildfire and he can barely catch his breath, but then he’s doused as _leave the sea_ chases _be with him_ through his mind, and it makes his chest hurt, the thought of Haru leaving everything behind, everything he’s ever known, and loved, just for him.

“Haru.”

Haruka sees the moment that what he’s seeing truly penetrates, sees the moment that Makoto’s fierce joy starts to die, and a sense of dread makes itself known as his own smile fades. “Makoto?” Makoto shakes his head and Haruka’s stomach twists. “Makoto, wh—”

“Haru, you can’t.” And it about kills him to say it, he wants it so badly. But _no._

Haruka gapes at him, unable to catch a breath, to comprehend, and Makoto’s heart aches, because he can see it in Haru’s eyes, the hurt, the anger, the confusion.

“Your grandmother, Haru, your bloodline, your territory. Your friends, the water that you love. To give that all up, everything, just for me—“

_That_ drives Haruka out of his daze and into an instant anger. “Stop that!” he snaps, cutting Makoto off. “Stop acting like you’re not worth it! Makoto, you—”

“Haruka, _no_!” Haru gapes again and Makoto’s heart breaks further. “I love you, more than anything. You’re _everything_ to me, Haru-chan,” he says desperately, “But I can’t let you give up your life for me. It’s just too much.”

Haruka stares. He can’t believe this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all, and he desperately grabs hold of his anger because it’s more comfortable to him than the pain. “It’s _my life,_ Makoto,” he shouts as he twists himself from Makoto’s grasp. He can’t barely breathe, but for all the wrong reasons, and he feels the threat of tears in his eyes. His heart feels like it’s crushing when he sees, _feels_ , Makoto’s agony, the blessed, beautiful idiot caught between what he wants and what he thinks is right, and he has to leave because he _doesn’t know what else to do._ “It’s _my life,”_ he repeats, more broken this time than the first, and he angrily swipes a hand across his eyes. “Is it not mine to do with as I please?” And he turns away, dives hard and deep, but not fast enough to drown out Makoto’s equally as broken _Haru!_

_“_ Haru,” Makoto repeats on a rasped whisper when the only thing that comes back to him is the sound of the waves, and he turns and makes his way back to the shoreline, his thought a subconscious echo of his heart-mate’s.

_What have I done?_


	10. Chapter 10

Days upon days go by with no Makoto, and Haruka’s beside himself. His anger has faded, but he’s just so lost and confused; doesn’t understand how something meant to be beautiful and right had ended up so ugly and wrong. He can’t stop going to the cove, no matter how much it hurts him. He can’t give up hope that they can work this out, but each day that passes without Makoto’s presence erodes it a little bit more.

Nearly three weeks go by and Haruka overhears Rin with Nagisa on his way back to his grandmother’s quarters. They’re talking about the visit Nagisa will be making to extended family, and that’s when he remembers Makoto telling him that he’d be gone doing the same; how he’d laughed even though he’d looked so conflicted and had told him that, being new to his squadron, he had to take the time when he could get it. He’d be back for Christmas Eve though, he’d promised, and Haruka’s heart aches when he recalls how Makoto had shyly explained that it was a lover’s holiday; how they’d held each other and had made plans to spend the evening in each other’s arms. The day he’d, at one time, longed for has come, and he wonders what Makoto is doing, if he’s made it home safe, if he should go check… if Makoto would even come back at all.

“Haruka?”

He looks up at his grandmother’s voice, is surprised to find himself in her chamber. “Baa-baa…” he starts to make apology, but his voice catches at the end, and then she’s there, drawing him into her embrace, and he can stop neither tears nor words as it all comes tumbling out; how he’d talked to Makoto, how they’d fought, how Makoto had told him that he was his everything yet had rejected him anyway. How empty he feels. How alone.

“Haruka.” Her tail wends around him as she slips a hand up to pet through his hair. “Sweet boy, I know you’re hurting, but he loves you so, _so_ much.”

“Then why?” he asks, and he hates how small and petulant his voice sounds, but he just has nothing left. “If he loves me so, then why did he reject me?”

“ _Because_ of that love.” She eases back, puts space between them to force Haruka’s gaze. “The truest and purest of loves often involve such sacrifice, my child, as misguided as those sacrifices frequently turn out to be. And you spoke of how he puts complete strangers before himself. Does it really surprise you that he’d do the same for the other half of his heart?” 

Haruka’s lips curve up just slightly despite himself. “No.”

“No,” his grandmother repeats, and then she kisses his forehead. “And I’ll let you in on a secret. For as much as I know that Mitsuo loved me, he never once questioned my offer.”

Haruka’s brow furrows slightly. “Doesn’t that just mean that he wanted to be with you more than Makoto does me?”

“Or one could speculate that it means that Makoto loves you more than Mitsuo did me.” She smiles when she sees Haruka’s expression shift. “What _I_ think it means is that each life, each circumstance, is different and that one should consider the whole picture in detail before settling on any one conclusion. You also spoke of how he doesn’t see himself with your eyes, that—at times—all your Makoto sees are his flaws, yes?” She nods when Haruka does, chuckles softly when she hears his muttered, _idiot._ “Perhaps. But he’ll find his way again. I’m sure that his heart is as broken as yours, and when he examines it, he’ll realize his mistake.”

The clock sounds and they both glance up with it; Grandmother smiles a bit and drops her embrace. “You best go. To meet the tutor your parents scouted for the Hazuki family?” she reminds, and her chuckle over his absentmindedness follows Haruka out of her chamber.

“Yo.” Haruka does a doubletake when he hears Rin, then presses his lips together when Rin falls into pace beside him. He’d forgotten that Rin was to accompany him. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else—at least, not until they’ve left the reef. But then, “You really want this and love him, don’t you.”

Out of anything, Haru hadn’t been expecting that, and he about stops in his surprise. Rin snorts. “Don’t look so shocked.” 

Haruka studies him a moment and then starts to swim again. “The succession?” he questions quietly.

Rin nods, his expression softening to one of love and awe. “I still can’t believe she chose me, but yeah.”

“Of course she did.” Haruka give him a glance. “You’re as good as blood to her.”

“Yeah,” Rin chuckles softly. “That’s what she said. But anyway yeah, she told me why, but then you came back that day so angry. It was clear that something was wrong; that you’d fought or something, and things have just been off with you since. He really said no when you offered the spell?” Rin asks after a moment. Haruka doesn’t answer, just gives him a look, and Rin winces contritely. “Sorry.”

Haruka nods, but the apology doesn’t take the sting from his heart.

“So, a Tachibana, huh?”

The sting blossoms a bit and Haruka’s jaw tightens with a “Tch!”

“What? I’m curious,” Rin admits from behind him. “It’s our first time talking about it, you know? Besides, when the guy comes to his senses, you’ll need my approval, remember?” He gives Haruka a playful nudge as he catches up.

Haru rolls his eyes, tries to ignore the ache in his chest, his mounting impatience, knows he does owe it to Rin. “He is. And he did. Say no to the spell,” he clarifies.

“Wow.” Rin is silent for a moment and then, softly, “Ne, Haru, remember that time we fought? Before me and Sousuke met? Looks like you were right after all.” Haru glances over at him in surprise, and Rin gives him a slight smile. “I mean, he loves you so much that he doesn’t want you to give up _anything_ that makes you who you are. That’s pretty incredible.”

Haruka’s lips press and then he gives a reluctant nod. Beneath his hurt and disappointment, he knows that his grandmother and Rin are right; that it really does tell how much Makoto loves him, and he quietly admits that to Rin. “Baa-baa said he loves me that much that it’s clouded his head and he can’t see that being with him would make me happier than all of this does.”

Rin whistles, then catches up to him again. “You got all that out of what she said?”

Haruka shoots him an incredulous look over his shoulder. “ _You_ were eavesdropping?”

“No! I was waiting for you, and I overheard! Jeeze, Haru, slow down a bit, will you? What’s your rush? We have plenty of time!”

Haruka blinks, glances back, sees that Rin’s several yards behind him. His brow furrows; he’d had no idea he’d been swimming that fast, but the mere thought of slowing makes his gut gnaw and, abruptly, he realizes that what he’s feeling isn’t impatience or pain from Rin’s questions, but fear. It shakes him to the core because as surely as he knows now that it’s what he’s feeling, he knows there’s only one reason for it and his heart literally burns with it as he veers sharply to the left.

“Haru, wait! That’s the wrong way!”

Haruka catches Rin’s words, muffled as they are by his wake, but he doesn’t give a damn. There’s only one thing on his mind as he desperately tries to swim faster.

_Makoto!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Near-drowning; very brief.

Makoto’s chin rests on his knees as he stares at the water, but all that he sees are a couple of fishing boats past the mouth of the cove. There isn’t a sign of Haru. It’s Christmas Eve day and he’s been home for two, has been right there, every moment of the past forty-eight hours that he could, waiting and hoping. He’d made himself go to work the first day but had had to call out on the second. He’s distracted and exhausted and he just doesn’t trust himself on the job right now.

His family had noticed; of course they had. And he’d never been more grateful than when they’d instantly assumed that he’d been working himself too hard and needed downtime to rest. It hadn’t helped his heartache any, letting the fallacy lie between them, but it had been easier than trying to explain everything, and he won’t lie; he’d appreciated the ready excuse to go be by himself when he needed. He doesn’t regret the visit, but he’d been eager to get home.

Sitting there like he is now, he doesn’t know why, though. All that’s there now is emptiness for him, and he has only himself to blame. He’d rejected Haru, after all.

_How could I be so stupid?_

Haru’s words, snapped at him so angrily, echo through his mind and he winces. _Stop acting like you’re not worth it,_ he’d told him, and he imagines that Haru would have something similar to say if he heard Makoto denigrating himself. But he can’t help it. He realizes now that he truly had been, and he can’t believe that he hadn’t been able to see that everything Haru had been giving up for him had paled in comparison to being with him. To being whole.

He sees it now, though. Now that he’s been without Haru; knows how unhappy, how empty, he is without him.

Makoto squeezes his eyes shut. He’d believed in his answer at the time; even now there’s a part of him that questions. History has repeated itself once in letting their hearts find each other’s. What happens if it does so again, if something happens to _him_ and he leaves Haru stranded in a world he doesn’t know, with everything precious to him out of reach for him? But that doesn’t change the fact that Haru had been willing and that he’d hurt him badly despite his intent. Makoto quietly sighs. All he can do is apologize, to beg Haru to forgive him. But for that to happen, Haru has to come to the cove.

Absently, Makoto draws a gloved finger through the sand, thinks about anything he can to distract from the hope that Haru will show. Work comes to his mind easily. Other than Haru, it’s what occupies it the most, and he reminisces over the past several months, actually smiles a bit as he thinks about the conversations he’s had with his captain while restocking the kits or taking inventory. It’s odd, he thinks, that the ones that have stuck with him the most have happened over things like bandages and burn packs, and he chuckles a bit, and then freezes, eyes going wide.

“That’s it!” he speaks to the beach aloud, and for the first time in weeks, there’s a light inside him. Granted, making the shift from a firefighter to a medic isn’t the same as giving up everything like Haru, but it’s _something_ he can offer in turn; something he knows that Haru wouldn’t argue over, because Haru knows that he loves that part of his training, too. Plus he’d be keeping his life, the one that Haru’s willing to give up everything to share, _so_ much safer; doing what he can to ensure that Haru doesn’t end up stuck on the land alone with half his heart missing.

He just needs Haru to come so he can tell him, and Makoto can’t help but give a small, helpless laugh and sigh when he realizes he’s back at square one.

As the quiet sound fades, Makoto thinks he hears splashing and he tenses. After everything that’s happened the past several months, he knows better than to just rule it out as wishful thinking or coincidence. He gets to his feet when he hears it again, eyes narrowed, but the grey of the day makes it hard to see too far out… _There!_ He’s seen that sight too many times to mistake it for anything but what it is, the flip of a merman’s tail as he dives beneath the surface.

Makoto’s in the water before he half realizes it. “Haru! Haru!,” he calls again as he goes deeper. “Haru, please! Come back! I have to talk to you!” He sees the tail again, further out this time and, without thinking, homes in and follows it; a few seconds later, he sees someone surface to look around. “Ha—” his shout is cut off as fear rips through him when, instead of diving, it looks like Haru’s jerked down from beneath. All he can think of are the fishermen’s great nets and the motors used to haul them in.

Heart racing, Makoto swims toward the boats, his only thought being to save Haru. Somehow, he makes it to the mouth of the cove and then he sees the net break the water. His gut clenches when he just makes out Haru’s tail writhing helplessly amongst the fish. “Haru!” he cries out, but it’s lost to the motor and, setting his teeth, Makoto tries to swim further out, despite how the wake of the boat is sending the water over his head now.

Makoto fights it, even as he chokes on water with his next breath, as the salt burns his eyes and throat and he goes lightheaded. He keeps fighting even though he knows he’s losing, that he’s drowning, but just as the world goes black, he’s grabbed, and he hears a voice against his ear, telling him it’s okay, that he can rest, that he’s safe now.

Haruka clings to Makoto tightly, even when he lets himself go, though he’ll admit he’s grateful for the buoyancy of the water, or Makoto’s sudden dead weight would have pulled him down.

“I see what he was after!” Haruka hears Rin shout, and he watches Rin dive and then resurface beneath the net, but that’s all the time he can spare. He needs to get Makoto to the shallows, to see if he’s still breathing, and his heart clenches fiercely in his chest. He will be, Haruka decides then and there. He will not lose his hero, his love, like his grandmother had.

Before he’s half there, Rin’s at his side again, a strange merman to his right. “Ryugazaki,” Rin states shortly, and Haruka’s brow arches.

“The tutor?”

“Yeah. Apparently he took a wrong turn.” Haruka nods and keeps swimming toward the shore, jaw setting against the flicker of anxiety he feels in his gut, and then clenching tighter when Rin sharply calls his name in warning.

“I have to!” Haruka snaps, and when the next wave rolls toward the sand, Haruka stops swimming altogether and lets it beach them.

“Haru!”

“I’m alright!” he calls back, and he drags himself up so that he can listen for Makoto’s breaths. Tears sting his eyes when he hears and feels it, weaker than it likely should be, but steady and _there._ “Makoto is, too!”

Makoto’s brow draws together when he hears his name, and then his eyes snap open as the voice itself penetrates. “Haru!” He lifts a hand, lips trembling slightly as he tries to both smile and speak, but all he can do in the end is touch Haru’s face, which instantly sends his tears falling. “Haru.”

“Hush,” Haruka whispers in return, his own voice thicker than normal. “Just rest.”

Makoto nods, closes his eyes, lets his hand drop. His lips curve slightly when Haru takes it right away. For several minutes he just lays there and breathes, and then he cracks his eyes open again—and then tries to sit when he spies the two strange mermen in the water over Haru’s shoulder. “Haru.”

“It’s alright. They’re friends.” It’s close enough, anyway, he thinks, and easier than explaining everything.

Makoto nods, then shifts his gaze back to Haru’s. “I remember swimming, trying to save you. But the water…” He shivers, then swallows. “I thought I heard your voice, then I woke up here. What happened?”

“You’re an idiot, that’s what happened,” Haruka snaps even as he tightens his grip on Makoto’s hand, and then he casts a glare to Rin when he snorts softly in amusement.

Makoto looks that way again as well and, after a moment, he smiles a bit. “Is that Rin, Haru-chan?”

“Haru-ch—”

“Shut up, Rin! And yeah, it is.”

“Hey, how’d he know that?” Rin demands, as he floats just a bit closer to the shoreline.

“Haru talks about you all the time. How you’re always aggravating him. When he glared and snapped, I figured you had to be his brother.”

“Yeah, well, he isn’t too easy to deal with, either,” Rin snipes in response, but then his features relax and he smiles a bit. “But yeah, I am.” He goes on to fill Makoto in on what had happened after he’d blacked out, and Makoto nods, quietly thanks him.

“I thought it was Haru,” he explains, and Rin snickers a bit.

“Yeah, we got that.”

“Regardless, I thank you for trying to save me,” Ryugazaki finally speaks. “There are only the myths of land dwellers where I’m from. I would have never thought that one would risk their life for me.”

“They’re not like that,” Haruka says promptly. “Most aren’t, anyway.”

“Especially your Makoto, ne, Haru- _chan?_ ” Rin obnoxiously drawls out, and he just laughs when Haru glares at him again. “C’mon, Ryugazaki, let’s get you home.”

And, like that, they’re alone again.

Swallowing softly, Makoto turns his head to Haru, lightly touches his face again. “Haru.” Tears well in his eyes, and he swallows again. “I’m so sorry, Haru. You’re right. I _am_ an idiot. I just didn’t see how being with me could make you as happy as everything you’d be giving up ‘til I thought I’d lost you for good and felt how empty _my_ heart was. But I understand now, and I’m so sorry for hurting you. Please forgive me.”

Every crack that had been put through Haruka’s heart starts to mend as Makoto apologizes to him, and by the time he’s done, Haruka’s eyes are damp, too, his fingers trembling as he brings them to wipe a stray tear from Makoto’s cheek. “You _are_ an idiot,” he whispers, “But you’re mine, heart and soul,” and he tips his head, brings their mouths together, the kiss slow and sweet as they reacquaint themselves with each other. 

As they part, the moon finally shows through the grey, and Makoto softly gasps; Haruka tips his head, touches his cheek when he sees the dazed look in Makoto’s eyes. “What is it?”

Makoto chuckles softly, shakes his head, turns it to kiss Haru’s fingers. “I’ve just never seen you fully before. You’re so beautiful, Haru-chan.”

Haruka blushes deeply, from the compliment, from the familiar way his heart goes haywire whenever he hears Makoto speak the endearment. “Idiot,” he mutters again, and Makoto gently laughs; Haruka’s breath hitches softly with how the moonlight catches in Makoto’s eyes. “Makoto is beautiful, too,” he whispers, stroking through his hair, and down his cheek, and then he kisses him again, sending a silent, but fervent _thank you_ to Suijin, to whomever is listening, that his bond with Makoto is so true that he’d sensed his heart-mate’s danger, and that he’d made it to him in time. 


	12. Chapter 12

Haruka stays with Makoto, talking, kissing, planning, just _being_ , until the tide rolls out and Makoto has to carry him into the deeper water. His cheeks, his whole _being_ still warm from their last embrace, Haruka hurries directly to his grandmother’s chambers, and then stops short when he sees Rin there.

“It’s fine, Haruka, please come,” she beckons, and as he nears her side, she holds her hand out to him. “I’m so happy for you, child.” She laughs softly and, beneath his surprise, his heart aches for how weak she sounds. “It’s written all over your face, my love,” she explains once she’s able. “Besides, Rin has told me.”

“What?” Rin demands when Haruka snaps a glare at him. “I had to tell her I approve, didn’t I?” Haruka’s jaw drops slightly with that, and Rin snickers at his surprise. “Seriously, Haru? I mean, it only took me two seconds to see that you two idiots are head over heels.”

“Rin called your Makoto a hero when he spoke to me, Haruka. Just like my Mitsuo, he said, and in more than just looks,” Grandmother says conspiratorially, yet obviously meant for Rin to hear. Rin colors and sputters, and grandmother laughs and then closes her eyes with a soft, happy sigh. “I’m glad for you. And I can think of no better way to spend the last moments of my life than by granting you what I’d been denied.”

“Baa-baa!”

“’baa-san!”

Haruka’s and Rin’s gasps come on top of each other, and grandmother opens her eyes again. “Don’t, my loves. I’ve only days anyway, even if I didn’t cast the spell. Have you spoken of when, Haruka?”

Haruka starts to speak, has to lightly clear his throat from the sorrow that’s closing it off. “New Year’s Eve, at the time when the new year begins. He has some things he said needs tending to. He wants to make sure everything’s ready for me; that I’ll have what I’ll need.”

She smiles softly, closes her eyes again. “Ah, he loves you so much.” She gives a small nod. “I’ll work the spell tomorrow then. And the days between will give you time to grieve before you start your new life with him. Just remember, Haruka, don’t surface until it’s time. As soon as your heart leaves the water after, it is done, and you’ll need your Makoto to tend to you. You won’t know how to swim as they do, and you’ll no longer be protected from the water’s frigidness. Now go,” she says to them. “Gather our families and make the announcement. And Rin, come back to me after. There are still things you will need to know.”

Word spreads quickly through the territory that everyone who can is to gather at the Nanase’s reef, and the proclamation only takes minutes. The families’ sorrow is palpable for their last queen’s impending death but they’re accepting of Rin as the assigned leader. Haruka isn’t surprised. The Matsuoka family had been well respected before they were lost. Plus, Haruka figures, they likely think he’s off to find his parents, and he’s fine with the misassumption. 

Later in the evening, Rin comes to him; tells him they’ve finished with his instruction. “I figured you’d want some time with her,” he says softly and Haruka just nods, though he does pause to thank Rin before he leaves his chamber for his grandmother’s. She’s sleeping when he gets there and doesn’t wake through the night; Haruka sits beside her, holds her hand and loses himself in remembering, until he wakes up to the gentle touch of her fingers against his cheek.

“Sweet boy,” she whispers as she wipes the tears he hadn’t known were there away. “I’m so glad that you found someone who sees your beautiful heart as I do.”

There’s a sound at the entrance and Haruka quickly dashes the fresh tears away with his hand and looks over. It’s Rin, with Sousuke, and Rin’s _already_ crying; Haruka gives them both a nod and they come in. Softly, he tells his grandmother that they’re here and she nods and beckons them closer. Placing her hand over Haruka’s heart, she murmurs several words in a language so ancient that only a select few of the higher lineages are taught it and then her fingers fall away, and it is done.

Truly, it’s as if nothing has changed save for a spark deep in Haruka’s heart that tells him that everything has.

“Be happy and blessed, my loves.”

The faltering words draw Haruka outward again and tears rise to his eyes once more as he sees her breath flow for the last time. He clenches his jaw against them while Rin sobs into Sousuke’s shoulder; in that moment, he feels empty and alone, caught between two worlds, mourning for the loss of a love he can never replace and longing for the one that awaits him.

When he and Rin are ready, they and Sousuke take her to her final resting place and, after the crypt is secured, Haruka turns to Rin. “You’ll tend to her for me?” he quietly asks, and Rin sniffles and nods.

“I feel like I’m losing you both.”

“You’re not. We’re still brothers. Nothing will change that. We’ll meet in the cove. Each full moon,” Haruka promises. “More often if we think we need it.” Rin nods and they start to move away from the crypt and back toward the habitable part of the reef. “You’ll move back? When the time is right?” 

“Yeah. When enough time has passed.” Rin actually manages a small smirk. “Nagisa’s offered to help,” he shares, using his fingers as quotes for the last word.

“Mean, Rin-chan!” They turn and Nagisa comes up to them, Ryugazaki in tow. “And you too, Haru-chan! Thinking you can sneak off to the land without telling me goodbye!”

“Nagisa-kun, don’t be rude,” Ryugazaki chastises, and Haruka arches a brow, both at the scolding and at the familiarity; a second joins it when Nagisa simply ducks his head and mumbles an apology—to the tutor.

_Interesting,_ he thinks at the overheard _Rei-chan_ and the way Ryugazaki’s cheeks color with it, but then Nagisa’s flinging his arms around Haruka’s neck and apologizing into his shoulder. “Nagisa, let go!” he grumbles, and then he sighs and gives a single pat on the back. “It’s fine. I forgive you.”

“Enough to let us come see you to land?” Nagisa asks in a voice so innocent that Haruka knows it’s anything but. He rolls his eyes, looks to Rin for help, but Rin just gives his stupid smirk instead; after a moment or two, Haruka huffs impatiently.

“Fine.”

Time seems to slow after his grandmother’s passing, but finally the day arrives. Haruka doesn’t have much that’s precious to him but he takes what there is, plus Mitsuo’s ring which Rin had given him, telling him that his grandmother had instructed him to before she’d died.

When it’s time, Haruka takes a last look around and then exits his family home. Rin is waiting with Nagisa and Sousuke and, together, the four swim to the cove, Haruka being careful not to surface above his shoulders when they reach it. Just before midnight he sees Makoto on the shore and his heart leaps; it’s all he can do to not swim to him, to wait for Makoto to come out. But he heeds his grandmother’s warning and waits as patiently as he can and, soon enough, Makoto’s just a few feet in front of him.

Makoto sees Haruka’s eyes as he wades out from the shore, and his heart skips a beat; he’s aware that there are others as well, but all he truly sees are his love’s, and he hurries out as quickly as he can to greet him.

“Oh, _very_ nice, Haru-chan,” one of the others comments in a whisper that Makoto knows that he’s meant to hear, and he feels his face heat as he comes to a stop. Rin he recognizes, but there’s a smaller blond—likely responsible for the tease, he figures, because he knows Rin’s voice and the merman to Rin’s left doesn’t look the sort to even consider it.

“Glad you approve,” Haruka says wryly and with a roll of his eyes, and then he smiles at Makoto, makes the introductions.

“Nagisa. Sousuke,” Makoto repeats with a warm smile of his own and a tip of his chin to each. “Thank you for seeing Haru safely to me.” He turns to Rin then and gives a more deliberate nod. “And thank you for entrusting your brother to me. I promise that I’ll take good care of him, Rin. He won’t want or need for anything.”

“He better not,” Rin grumbles, but Haruka isn’t fooled; he can hear the thick emotion beneath it. He turns to Rin, puts a hand to his shoulder, gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Take care of each other,” Haruka says to the three as he drops his hand away, and then he turns to Makoto. Heart beating wildly, he swims forward, and once he’s within an arm’s reach, he goes vertical in the water. A sharp sort of snapping flash jolts through him, and then he’s shivering and sinking, but Makoto grabs him before he can go fully under and draws him close.

“Go; get him out of the water!” Rin instructs and Makoto nods and calls his goodbyes, the three echoing them, and reminders to Haru to come to the cove the next full moon, as Makoto moves as swiftly as he can to the shore.

Haruka has never been cold before and he instantly decides that he _hates_ it, but he loathes his sudden awkwardness in the water even more and vows to himself that learning to swim as a land dweller will be among the _first_ things he does. Though, he doesn’t mind the way that Makoto’s holding him so very close. He will admit to that. He calls his goodbyes to his friends the best he can with his teeth chattering and then Makoto takes him to shore, promptly wraps him in something dry and _so_ soft. A towel, Makoto calls it, though he won’t look him in the eye and his cheeks are pinked.

“Makoto?”

Makoto’s blush deepens as he brings a second towel to dry Haruka’s hair. “You’re just as beautiful without your tail, Haru-chan,” he says softly with a shy glance upward, and he can’t help but press a kiss to Haruka’s lips for how adorable he looks when he pinks as well. “C’mon. I have some clothes for you further up on the shore.”

They move very slowly together, Haruka insistent on trying to walk. It’s hard, and frustrating, and he feels clumsy as hell, but with Makoto’s arm around him, he manages, and Makoto’s praise warms him just as much as the clothing he helps him into. When they reach the shrine in the rocks, Makoto stops; Haruka studies it for a moment, it being his first time seeing it up close, and he smiles a bit. It’s just as simple as he’s always imagined it to be, even from his grandmother’s stories. “What did you say to Them?” Haruka asks curiously, knowing that Makoto usually only spends time there if there’s been a fire, and Makoto smiles down at him, the love in his eyes shining as brightly as the moonlight on the water.

“I thanked them for you,” he says simply, and Haruka colors, though a smile of his own curves his lips as he recalls having contemplated that Mitsuo had done the same for his grandmother.

“I’m grateful for Makoto, too,” Haruka says softly and then he lightly squeezes his hand. “Come. Let’s go home.”


	13. Chapter 13

Haruka experiences so many new things between leaving the beach and reaching Makoto’s building that he’s more than a little dazed. But he has Makoto’s hand the entire time, Makoto’s gentle voice explaining the things that he sees, and it keeps him from being overwhelmed by it. His new legs ache from the many stairs it takes to get up to Makoto’s apartment, and he gives a quiet sigh when they finally stop at a door.

Makoto glances over at the soft sound, gives Haru a fond smile. “You’ll get used to it all soon, Haru-chan,” he promises, and he loves Haru even more for how brave he is, how calmly he’s facing everything. He opens the door once he’s unlocked it and, after turning the lights on, he steps in, drawing Haru in with him. “Welcome home,” he murmurs with a kiss after sliding the door shut behind him, and then, as Haru looks around, “I know it’s small; there was actually a little more room in my other, but I think it’ll do, and the bedroom is just a little bit bigger which meant I could get a proper bed instead of making do with a futon.”

Haruka isn’t certain what a futon is, or what a proper bed, by land dwellers’ terms, would be, but it doesn’t matter. This is his new home, and it does feel small—how could it not, compared to the vastness of the sea—but it’s tidy, and it’s theirs; his to share with Makoto. And that makes it perfect to him. “Why did you switch?” he asks as they step out further away from the door. “Anyplace with Makoto would have been fine.”

Makoto smiles a bit and opens another door. “A full bathroom,” he shares and then he explains what that means, what the different things inside it are and how they work. “My old apartment only had a shower,” he says as he shuts the door again, “And I wanted you to have someplace where you could still feel water whenever you want.”

_Ah, he loves you so much._

Haruka’s heart aches softly as his grandmother’s words come to him and he wishes so much that his two greatest loves could have met each other at least once. “Thank you,” he whispers, and then his head tilts slightly as he studies Makoto’s gaze. There’s something off, like Makoto’s anxious about something beneath his happiness and excitement, and Haruka takes his hand. “Makoto?”

Makoto blinks and then chuckles softly, tips his head to press a kiss to Haru’s lips. “I love how well you know me,” he says against them before he straightens, and then he takes a slight breath and exhales it. “I want you to know, I’m quitting being a fireman, Haru. That was the other reason why I needed some time.”

Haruka’s eyes go wide; out of anything, he’d not been expecting that. “Makoto, why?” He knows that’s what Makoto’s always wanted.

“I’ve wanted to help people, to be a fireman, all my life,” Makoto begins, unknowingly echoing Haru’s thought. “But, when I thought I’d lost you, I realized that there was something I’d wanted just as long, but even more. And that’s you. You gave up everything for me, Haru-chan,” he continues earnestly, taking Haru’s other hand. “The least I could do was find something to do that wouldn’t risk you being caught on the land all your own.”

Makoto’s expression softens when he sees the distress in Haru’s eyes. “It’s okay, I promise,” he soothes, freeing a hand to lightly touch Haru’s cheek. “Besides, I’m not really even leaving. I’m just making a shift of sorts. I’m still with the department, but I’ll be on the medic squad now. Taking care of peoples’ injuries,” he explains, and then he smiles a bit. “I’ll be busier; they need the help a bit more and I’ll be working full time right away once my training is done. But it’s worth it. It’s still something I know I like, and it doesn’t put me at risk like the firefighting does.”

Haruka listens to Makoto with mixed emotions, but Makoto’s smile, his eyes, support what he’s saying; that he’s fine with the shift. Happier, even, because it’s something he can give Haruka in turn. And _oh_ , Haruka loves him so much that he doesn’t know how there could be room for him to love Makoto more, but there is, every day there is, and despite the newness and strangeness of everything and everything that he’s left behind, Haruka has never been more convinced that he’s made the right decision.

“Makoto,” Haruka murmurs and then he leans up and gives him a gentle kiss, eyes falling shut when Makoto’s arms slip around him to hold him close. When they part, Haruka tips his head back to meet Makoto’s eyes, brings a hand up to lightly caress beneath one. “Come lay with me. We should rest before you take me to see the first sunrise.”

Makoto’s eyes flutter closed at the gentle touch and his cheeks warm with the words that follow. Nodding, he lets his arms drop away and then takes Haru by the hand, leading him into the bedroom. He shows Haru the few items he’d bought for him and, as they make ready for bed, tells him that they’ll shop once things open after the New Year so Haru can pick out his own things.

The bed is much softer, and much larger, than what Haruka’s used to but, for the most part, it suits his new body fine—though he is definitely more comfortable when Makoto joins him and he can curl into the firmness of his body. His head fits perfectly between Makoto’s shoulder and neck, and Haruka presses a soft kiss there, and then another. After a moment or two, Haruka shifts, just a bit, so he can slip a hand beneath Makoto’s shirt. Makoto’s muscles jump and his breath catches lightly before he whispers his name.

“I can’t help it,” Haruka murmurs as his cheeks pink a bit. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to touch Makoto.”

“Mm, it has been,” Makoto murmurs; the water had just been too cold to stay in long toward the end of October, and while he’d been able to hold and touch Haru after he’d gotten the wetsuit for his birthday, it certainly hadn’t been the same as before.

“Are clothes necessary for sleeping?” Haru asks after a few seconds of idle caressing, and Makoto can’t help but laugh.

“I think it’s up to a person’s individual preference.”

“How does Makoto usually sleep?”

He smiles. “Usually like this.”

“Oh.”

Makoto bites back a chuckle at Haruka’s disappointment and, trying not to blush _too_ much, shifts out from beneath him, sits up a bit, and tugs his tee-shirt off. Before he can tease if that’s more to Haru’s liking, Haru does the same; Makoto’s eyes lid slightly as he watches—and then go wide when Haruka carries on to strip off his sleep pants and boxers too.

Haruka sighs in contentment once he’s free of the clothing. He understands the practical need for it on the land, but this is _their_ home and _their_ bed, and besides, Makoto’s already seen all of him anyway. “I think I like this,” Haruka decides as he lays back down again, and Makoto swallows and nods, lays back down too, eyes sliding shut when Haru promptly cuddles into his side again. “Yeah. This is much better,” Haru murmurs against his chest as his fingers roam over the expanse of it. He peeks up at him after a moment. “Makoto should try it.”

Makoto blurts a laugh despite the mixture of arousal and embarrassment currently staining his cheeks a deeper red. Haru smiles at the sound of it and Makoto can’t help it, he tugs Haru up just a bit further to take a taste of it. He meant the kiss to be swift, but when he goes to pull away, Haru whines his disapproval, His own lips briefly curving up again, he stays, allows Haru to deepen it, his breaths quickly coming faster between Haru’s taste, the feel of his tongue in his mouth, the sensation of Haru’s bare flesh against his own. “Yeah,” he breathes when they separate out of need; for the life of him, he can’t remember why he’d been hesitant to get naked anyway and, putting Haru away from him briefly again, he shimmies out of his sleep pants and boxers and kicks them to the floor.

As soon as Makoto stills, Haruka moves back into his side. He’s never seen Makoto fully naked before and, as he caresses down Makoto’s chest, his curiosity gets the better of him and he tugs the blankets back.

“Haru.”

Haruka glances up at the strained call of his name, smiles slightly at his love’s embarrassment, and he can’t help but be glad that he hadn’t been brought up on the land where one’s nakedness is cause for discomfort or shame. “Makoto is beautiful, too,” he assures, recalling what Makoto had told him before and then he lets his fingers run lower, over the firm muscles of his abdomen, along the vee of his hip, and then to wrap around his erection. He chuckles softly, and then glances up when he hears Makoto groan and shift, Makoto covering his face with his hands.

“Tch. Idiot,” Haruka softly chastises and he stops what he’s doing so that he can tug Makoto’s hands away. “You’re beautiful,” he repeats, and then, “I was just remembering the first time I felt you hard against me. You were embarrassed then, too, and kept apologizing.”

Makoto groans again, though he can’t help but laugh a little bit as well. “And then I had to explain what was going on and why I was sorry and that made it worse!”

Haruka chuckles again, lets Makoto’s hands go, rests his chin on Makoto’s chest. “Do you remember what I told you? Hm?” he persists when Makoto just colors again.

“Yes, Haru, I remember,” he says with a small smirk and a roll of his eyes. “You called me an idiot then, too.”

“And?”

Makoto smiles softly then, reaches down for him, draws him up so their heads are close again. “You said you were glad I was aroused by you because I did the same to you.”

“Ah.”

Makoto chuckles. “I’m glad I’m _your_ idiot, Haru-chan,” he murmurs and then he kisses Haru again, tongue sliding into the heat of his mouth when Haru opens it for him.

Haruka lowly groans around Makoto’s tongue, runs a hand up into Makoto’s hair. He could have spent all night looking at and exploring his beautiful body but there are more pressing needs at hand. It’s different, how his arousal presents in this form, but the feeling itself is the same, flushed cheeks, tight warmth through his belly, and his body seems to know what to do; the pressure of Makoto’s thick thigh against his erection is _delightful_ when he pushes himself against it. Makoto gives a soft growl into his mouth which makes Haruka go hot and then the next thing Haruka knows, he’s on his back with Makoto looming over him.

Dipping his head, Makoto takes Haru’s mouth again, nudges Haru’s legs apart with a knee and then settles between them. Rolling his hips, he brings their groins together and Haru’s head drops back with a throaty moan from the pleasure. Mouthing along Haru’s neck and throat, Makoto rolls his hips again, his own breath stuttering when Haru pushes up this time to meet him.

“So beautiful, Haru-chan. You feel so good,” Makoto mumbles in between the small pink marks he’s leaving littered across the pale flesh, and Haruka softly whines as the nickname spikes his arousal. He’s wet now, both of them are, and the grind and slide of their erections becomes even headier; it’s at once too much and not enough, and he grips and claws at Makoto’s back as they rut into each other.

The noises Haru makes are intoxicating, and Makoto’s close already. He tries to hold on, but when Haru’s nails bite into his shoulder blades, he’s done. Hips arcing down hard one last time, he comes, Haru’s name a harsh stutter on his lips before his jaw goes lax from the pleasure. He feels Haru push up against him once, twice more and then the heat of Haru’s release spreads between them to mingle with his own as Haru sinks boneless beneath him.

The face Makoto shows him when he comes is the most erotic thing Haruka’s seen, and the way he calls for him draws his gut tight and makes his thighs quiver. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his peak after, and the world whites out around him when he does, he comes that hard. When his mind clears a few moments later, Makoto weight rests comfortably on top of him, and Haruka softly sighs and strokes through his hair and over his shoulders. “That was incredible. Makoto is incredible.”

“So is Haru,” Makoto returns, opening his eyes from where they’d slid shut beneath Haru’s caresses. “And it was.” He lifts his head, smiles down at him, slightly shy. “There’s more we can do, too; that we can learn together,” he tells him, and then he laughs when he sees Haru’s eyes light with interest. “Not right now, Haru-chan, jeeze!”

Haru pouts a bit, but mumbles a “fine,” and Makoto chuckles again.

“Soon,” he promises, “But for now, we should clean up and get a short nap at least before the sunrise. No, you stay. I’ll be right back to take care of you,” Makoto says when he starts to get up, and as Makoto slips from the bed to pad out of the room, Haruka watches him with a soft smile. He’s tired, feels strange in this body, and his heart still mourns for his grandmother. But he has no regrets. Makoto, with his eyes like seagrass, smile like the sun and heart of a hero—the other half of _his_ heart—is worth it.

_Be happy and blessed, my loves_ , his grandmother had said on her final breath, and Haruka closes his eyes and assures her silently, _I am._


	14. Epilogue

The pier and beach are crowded, but Makoto and Haruka make their way through. Weaving one’s way amongst people is certainly different than it had been through schools of fish and pods of dolphins, Haruka _still_ thinks, despite the time that has passed. But he’s getting used to it. And he truly can’t complain tonight. There is something old and magical in the air—and Makoto is exquisitely handsome in yukata.

“There, Haru-chan. To the left.”

The words are murmured close to Haruka’s ear and Haruka nods, making his way in that direction. A glint from his right, caught in the paper lanterns from above, catches his attention and he smiles at the glimpse of Matsuo’s ring, a perfect compliment to Makoto’s left hand. The gesture softens as he recalls how Makoto had teared up when Haruka had asked him to wear it; of how, several weeks ago, on his birthday, Makoto had given Haruka one in return.

Makoto’s great-great-aunt’s possessions had been lost long ago, but Makoto had enlisted his mother’s help and she’d found a couple of pictures of the woman. Haruka glances down at his own left hand, hia heart warming at the band that rests there and what Makoto had gone through to see it done for him. It’s a thicker design than his auntie’s had been and the solitary stone is inlaid instead of set, but beyond that, it’s an exact replication. Next to Makoto, it’s the most precious thing Haruka has, as much for the thought Makoto had put into it as for the sentiment behind it and the bond it represents.

A small group of people turns and heads the opposite direction, freeing up a bit of room. Haruka draws a discreet, yet deep breath; he’s close enough to the ocean now that he can taste it, and he briefly mourns that there are only a couple of months left before the water will be too cold to swim in. He’s grateful for the community pool and for the bathtub Makoto had made sure he’d have, but it isn’t the same—though he does already have his own wetsuit so that he can continue to meet with his brother and friends. Haruka rolls his eyes slightly. He has no doubt that Rin will have plenty of wisecracks about it. It’s been over seven months and he still hasn’t let the _chan_ thing go.

The lights from above fade as they move further down the beach, but it’s far from dark. A gentle glow seems to surround them as they step to the water’s edge. It’s as breathtaking up close as it had been from afar, Haruka thinks, and then Makoto touches his arm and Haruka turns toward him. Smiling gently, Makoto lights the floating lantern Haruka carries and then passes the flame off for Haruka to light his in turn. Haruka’s throat closes slightly. It’s such a simple thing, yet so profound, what they’re doing, and the reflection of moisture in Makoto’s eyes, knowing that he feels it, too, makes it more so.

Once the flame is extinguished, they turn as one and, as one, they crouch and place their paper lanterns into the water. As they straighten, Makoto’s hand finds his and they watch the lights for Matsuo and for his grandmother float out to sea, bright and beautiful, side by side, as meant to be. Wherever they were, wherever it is that souls went, he hopes that they are together there, too, their hearts finally, _finally_ whole. As his and Makoto’s are.


End file.
